


Steady All The Hands

by sksai



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Domestic Fluff, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Sex Worker Adam Parrish, Single Parent Ronan Lynch, listen it's Fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:23:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 53,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6617710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksai/pseuds/sksai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan makes a series of questionable choices. Adam is just Trying His Best. There is a child - a small one. The gang's all here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Answers To Questions You May Have Prior To Reading: 
> 
> Q: Is JTBQ abandoned/what are you doing/stop?
> 
> A: No, I just needed a break and wanted to work on something fun, rom-comy, and a little over the top. It's good for my Mental Health TM. 
> 
> Q: How did Ronan have a baby wtf that is nnnnnoT possible? 
> 
> A: All will be explained. If U Read....trust me....im ur friend....
> 
> Q: Sex Work hmmm that sounds kinda intense and dub-con i am Uncomf?
> 
> A: It's not. Don't worry. 
> 
> Title from: Make Them Gold - CHVRCHES

“You are _fucking_ me, Dick Gansey.” Ronan gaped at his friend with a mixture of disgust and incredulity.  


“Afraid not.” Gansey was all twinkling eyes and wicked grins. “I haven’t the time nor the energy. That’s why I’m giving you this. I think it would be good for you. You should have something, someone—”

 

“I _have_ someone,” Ronan all but snarled.

 

“Yes,” Gansey’s eyes went soft at the mention of his godchild. “I know that. I meant an adult someone. Someone who can help you,” Gansey paused solemnly, as if he needed a moment to switch a gear within himself before he continued, “take the edge off a bit.”

 

Ronan sneered, scandalized from even looking at the little black card Gansey had slid toward him. His cheeks heated, embarrassed by his own reaction. “I can’t believe you’d seriously suggest this.”

 

“I don’t see what there is to get so ruffled over,” Gansey had the gall to be affronted. “It’s a highly reputable agency. Very professional and discreet, from what I’ve heard.”

 

“Well, in that case,” Ronan scoffed loudly.

 

“I know you’re not looking to pursue any serious relationships at the moment,” Gansey went on, mild as a summer breeze. “And well, if I may be frank—”

 

“By all means,” Ronan deadpanned.

 

“It wouldn’t kill you to go out and get yourself laid, Ronan. In fact, I think it’d do you some good.” Gansey shrugged, took a long sip of his coffee. “And to me, this seems more efficient than trying your luck on one of those chaotic hook-up apps. Grind-It or what have you.”

 

Ronan realized at this point that Gansey wasn’t fucking with him. He was actually serious.

 

“You know I don’t _do_ shit like this,” Ronan finally managed to choke out. His whole body was uncomfortably warm. He wanted Gansey to stop talking, to take back the card, to have never had said any of it. “Jesus Christ, Gansey. I’ve got a kid to look after.”

 

“You’re a truly dedicated father,” Gansey smiled warmly. “But I know it can be taxing, being a full time parent, and lonely. It doesn’t make you a bad person to want some time to yourself. Or with someone else. Even if it’s just for a night.”

 

“Please,” Ronan brought his fingertips to his temples. “Stop. Talking.”

 

Gansey was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Still as prude as ever, I see.”

 

“If refusing to let a _hooker_ into my house in which I’m raising a four year old child is prude, then yeah.” Ronan scoffed. “Call me old-fashioned.”

 

“They’re _escorts_ ,” Gansey corrected. “There’s a difference.”

 

“Like _what_?” Ronan sputtered, then shook his head. “Never mind. I don’t—”

But Gansey was already plowing into an explanation. “Well, there’s a certain level of security, finding someone through an agency like this. These people have to go through background checks. And you know, you’ll know they’re,” Gansey cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Clean. In all senses of the word.”

 

“I can’t believe you’ve found a way to be offensive to prostitutes while trying to convince me to hire a prostitute,” Ronan said. “You’ve gone full Richard Campbell. I’m recording this conversation and sending it to Blue.”

 

“You’re the one who used the H word,” Gansey countered. “Blue told me to stick to escort or sex-worker, unless I’m speaking to an escort or sex-worker and they tell me they identify otherwise.” And then he beamed like he was accepting a Nobel Peace Prize. “Besides, Blue and I are prepared to babysit if need be.”

 

“You know that wouldn’t work.” Ronan crossed his arms, gave a belated scoff. “I should have known the maggot was in on this too.”

 

“Oh, stop that,” Gansey cringed at the childish nickname. Ronan hadn’t called Blue that since they were teenagers. Given the recent circumstances, he felt it was justifiable to be brought back into his vocabulary. “We just want good things for you, Ronan. We want you to be happy.”

 

“I am happy,” Ronan scowled. “I’m happy being a dad. I don’t need anyone else in my life. Even for a night.”

 

“Alright,” Gansey conceded, not bothering to mask his sincere disappointment. “It was just a suggestion. I do hope you’ll think about it.”

 

“I won’t,” Ronan assured him heatedly. Gansey stood up with a sigh.

 

“I’ve got to be off,” he frowned. “But I’d like to arrange something soon. All of us getting together for dinner, or something. The little one, too, of course. We all miss him.”

 

“He misses you, too. Asks for you guys all the time.” Ronan’s chest flooded with involuntary warmth. Talking about his son had that effect on him. “I’d wake him up so you could say hi, but—”

 

“Oh no,” Gansey shook his head. “I wouldn’t dare deprive him of his nap time. But give him an extra kiss from me.”

 

“Of course,” Ronan murmured, embracing Gansey in a tight hug goodbye. As ridiculous as the cause for this impromptu meeting had been, he couldn’t help but be disappointed that he couldn’t spend more time with him. Gansey had been increasingly busy with school the past few months, Blue and Noah were often off traveling, being fucking hippies somewhere obscure and stupid. They were still trying to figure out what they wanted to do. Blue was working when she was in town, saving up money on the chance that what she wanted to do with her life was expensive. Noah was living off his family’s money, of course, funding his and Blue’s international adventures.

 

And Ronan had his baby boy. It had been an unexpected thing, but once he’d decided to take full responsibility of a small child, he’d accepted that as his called fate. That was his job now. He was a dad. He never really gave thought to trying to be anything else. He loathed to admit that Gansey was partially correct in his assessment. Ronan _was_ lonely. He felt sick for even thinking it. His baby should be enough, more than enough. And he was, in some ways. But the lack of adult company in his life was beginning to weigh on him. His friends were busy, his mother and brothers were all spread out across the country. And maybe, maybe he did want _someone_. Sometimes. Someone to be intimate with. He hadn’t even looked at anyone since he’d become a father. He’d thought that being a parent meant those feelings just went away. He should be devoting himself completely to his child. And he was, he really was. At least, he was trying. But sometimes, in moments like these, he couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. He shook himself free of this awful thought, feeling disgusted with himself.

 

He skulked to the dining room to empty and clean out the mug Gansey had been drinking out of and stopped short. There, on the table, was the little black card. Gansey had forgotten to take it with him. Or, more likely, he’d remembered not to. Ronan cursed under his breath, picking up the ridiculous thing and inspecting it briefly before shoving it into his pocket. He’d throw it away later.

 

*******

 

A sitter was out of the question. Ronan had tried hiring a traditional babysitter, once. The outcome of that was enough to let him know he wouldn’t be trying that again. It wasn’t that he had an unruly child on his hands, just a...different one. He clammed up around strangers and didn’t like to be left alone with them. It took ages for him to warm up to Gansey and the others and even then he still became anxious and prone to fit-throwing if Ronan tried to leave him with them. The only person he could stand to be left alone with for any extended amount of time was Ronan’s older brother, Declan, of all fucking people. But Declan was thousands of miles away at the moment. So, this was stupid. _This was stupid._ He should wait until Blue and Noah were back in town and Gansey was free. They could all babysit together. Maybe that would work. Maybe his son was old enough now that he’d handle being left alone without Ronan. But there was no way he’d get out of that situation without the vultures weaseling the truth out of him. Gansey wouldn’t even have to ask, he’d know right away. And Ronan didn’t want this to be anyone’s business. He just wanted to get it over with and forget about it. He wasn’t going to give any of his friends the satisfaction of knowing they were right. He didn’t want anyone to know he was doing this at all.

 

He wasn’t sure if he was ashamed of the act itself or having to admit he’d done it while his child was in the same house. But people did this sort of thing all the time, didn’t they? It wasn’t very different from going out with someone on a date and bringing them home. People with children still lived lives. They went out on dates, hooked up with people, it didn’t make him a monster. Did it? And the aforementioned child was out like a light and would remain that way, come hell or high water. That boy could sleep through the world ending.

 

Keeping that thought in mind, Ronan took a deep breath and dialed.

 

*******

 

This was a mistake. This was already a huge mistake. Ronan had never expected hiring a hooker to be so goddamn _involved_. Gansey had told him the agency was professional and discreet. He’d assumed that meant he could simply call a number push a button and expect someone to show up without having to actually speak to anyone. He certainly hadn’t expected it to be like ordering a fucking pizza.

 

_What gender are you interested in for tonight?_

 

Ronan hadn’t realized he’d need to specify. He’d thought the agency was exclusively for men seeking other men. He should have hung up right then and there. Instead he sputtered out a choked _I—um—males_ to which the operator replied,

 

_And what age range are you interested in?_

 

—Um, someone close to my age.

 

_What age range would that be, sir?_

 

Another prime opportunity to hang up and pretend this never happened. Burn the card. Burn the clothes he was wearing. Burn his cell phone.

 

—Uh. Early twenties.

 

_Skin, eye, or hair color preference?_

 

Ronan was so appalled by the question it took him almost a full minute to simply say, _no_.

 

_Tristan is available. Twenty-two years old. Male. Caucasian. Six-foot-one. One hundred and seventy pounds. Hair — brown. Eyes — blue. Is that acceptable?_

 

Ronan was barely listening. He didn’t even hear himself say yes. But he must have, because then the operator was telling him that _Tristan_ had been notified and to expect him to arrive at the location he’d provided within the hour.

 

This whole thing was insane. At this point he was surprised this agency didn’t come with a smartphone app to track and rate your prostitute like they were an uber driver.

 

He sat on his couch and took another deep, steadying breath. He wiped his sweating palms across his jeans. With every passing second, a nauseating knot of dread pulled tighter and tighter inside him. This was a mistake. This was stupid. This was unfathomably stupid. Even for him. He reasoned he could still back out. He could just _not_ answer the door. He’d already paid the agency over the phone but that was just the fee the agency charged for forwarding clients to their employees. The rest of the transaction was to take place in person, between the client and the…‘hired help’.  

 

He felt a sting of guilt, wasting someone’s time and screwing them out of money. Or _not_ screwing them out of money, as it were. This person who was coming over, it was their job after all. This money was their livelihood. He supposed he could just explain the situation when they arrived, that he’d changed his mind or actually had somewhere very important to be at that exact moment, pay them for the gas it took to commute to and from his residence, at least. Yes, he thought, that was a sensible, normal thing to do.

 

His phone lit up, flashing with an unfamiliar number. He stared at it, transfixed, let it go to voicemail. A moment later, there was a soft knock on his front door.

 

Ronan went unnaturally still. He swallowed, pulse hammering, did nothing. Another knock sounded, slightly louder than the first one. Ronan shook himself out of his paralysis and moved to open the door.

 

A man stood, facing away, phone pressed to his ear. Ronan could feel his own phone buzzing in his hand.

 

“Oh,” the man said when he turned and saw Ronan standing before him. As advertised: he was tall, perhaps just as tall as Ronan was, if not an inch or two shorter, modestly fit build, blue eyes, brown hair. Handsome, obviously. Ronan had expected as much. But there was an oddness to his looks that surprised Ronan. His face was uniquely attractive, with sharply cut cheeks and thick, fair eyebrows. The man smiled uncertainly, thin rose colored lips pulling back to reveal big, white teeth. “Sorry. I tried to call.”

 

“I didn’t realize—” Ronan blinked at him, confused. “They gave you my phone number?”

 

The man, what was it the operator had called him, _Tristan_? Tristan eyed him oddly. “Of course. I usually call to let a client know I’m here, make sure I’ve got the right place.” His expression turned playful. “I do have the right place, don’t I?”

 

“Right,” Ronan said. “I mean, yes.”

 

Tristan lingered in the doorway. “Can I...come in?”

 

“You know,” Ronan clapped a hand to the back of his neck. “I think this might have been a mistake.”

 

Tristan’s blue eyes went wide. A hard, surprised laugh escaped his mouth. “Yikes. Not your type, after all?”

 

Ronan flushed, off put by the flirtation of his tone. “No. That’s not what I meant. I just. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

 

“Okay. Can I ask why?” Tristan sounded somewhere between amused and bored, which pissed Ronan off. He was putting himself in an uncomfortably vulnerable position, here. But of course someone like this wouldn’t care about that. His job was to have sex with strangers for money. Empathy had to rank low on the totem pole of prioritized emotions for someone in that profession. Ronan couldn’t imagine it. He couldn’t even imagine being the type of person who paid for the service. He had no idea why he’d ever thought he could do something like this.

 

“I’ve never done this before,” Ronan blurted out, barbed as if it were some kind of insult.

 

“What?” Tristan seemed intrigued now. “Had sex with a man?” Then, troubled. “Had sex at all?”

 

“No.” Ronan scoffed. “I mean I’ve never...with a…with an...” Ronan trailed off, remembering Gansey’s self-aggrandizing tolerance speech from weeks ago, unsure of how to continue.

 

Delight was clear on Tristan’s face. “No, go on,” he urged with a twist of his head. “I want to see what word you land on.”

 

Ronan narrowed his eyes. “Escort.”

 

“Wow,” Tristan laughed lightly. “ _Whore_ would have come out nicer than that.”

 

Ronan didn’t like the idea of being labeled some kind of narrow minded bigot by some high-cheekboned chuckling stranger. “Whatever,” he crossed his arms. “I don’t have a problem with...what it is you do. I just don’t think it’s for me, that’s all.”

 

“What it is I _do_?” Tristan took the brush off in stride. “You haven’t even given me a chance to show you. Are you going to let me in or not?”

 

Ronan swallowed, his skin prickling at Tristan’s low, suggestive tone.

 

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I guess.”

 

Tristan smiled as he stepped inside. “I can’t tell if making me work for it is just part of what gets you off or if you’re actually this hopeless.”

 

Ronan balked at that. “I didn’t know paying to be insulted was part of the deal.”

 

“Some people are into that,” Tristan turned his bright white teeth on Ronan. “You?”

 

“I—,” Ronan let the biting remark die in his throat. He shook his head and sighed. “Can I just pay you?”

 

“That is one way to break the ice,” Tristan nodded and pulled an iphone out of his pants pocket. A small white square-shaped thing was attached via the headphone jack. Ronan had seen those around town, mostly in small, locally-owned businesses.

 

“So does this work like a commission thing, or what?” Ronan asked, reaching into his own pocket to pull out his wallet and hand over his credit card.

 

“Didn’t they explain this to you over the phone?” Tristan’s eyebrows knit together dubiously.

 

Maybe. Half that conversation was a fucking blur. Tristan must have taken note of the warred expression on Ronan’s face, because he sighed and began to explain what now sounded vaguely familiar. Paying the agency’s fee over the phone and then paying Tristan for his... _time_...in person, which was a completely separate transaction that went to Tristan’s bank account directly and in full.

 

“You’re way more expensive than Julia Roberts,” Ronan noted as Tristan swiped his credit card through the thin slot in the white square attached to his phone. He looked up to meet Ronan’s eyes witheringly.

 

“Do I really have to explain this difference between hiring an escort and picking someone up off the street?”

 

“What?” Ronan snorted derisively. “You think you’re better than them?”

 

“Not at all,” Tristan said, and Ronan suspected it might have been the first completely genuine thing that had come out of his mouth. “But the point of using an agency like the one I work under is—”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Ronan rolled his eyes. “Professional. Discreet. Background checks and drug tests and all that.”

 

“You’re nervous,” Tristan said, pocketing his phone. He stepped closer to Ronan. Too close. Uncomfortably close. Inappropriately close. “Don’t be nervous.” All the playfulness from his voice was gone. It was low, and soft, and serious. He reached up to squeeze Ronan’s shoulders. “Relax, handsome.”

 

Ronan couldn’t help but snort. He really didn’t need the Boyfriend Treatment, that’s not what he was paying this guy for. Tristan stepped even closer still, tucking his head to the side so he could nudge his nose along Ronan’s neck. His hands dropped to Ronan’s hips, tugging him so their bodies pressed against each other. Something long-repressed and primal stirred within Ronan. He breathed out slowly, keeping himself steady.

 

“I’m not nervous,” he said, more as a positive affirmation to himself than anything else. He could do this. He could have sex with a stranger. He was _not nervous_.

 

“No?” Tristan’s breath was hot against the skin just under his ear. He nipped there with his teeth. Ronan’s chest constricted as he suppressed a sigh. He felt Tristan’s smile melt against his skin. Ronan took a deep breath in through his nose, catching a warm spicy scent of cologne and soap. And underneath, something sharper, tangy and bitter. As if he was proud to be able to identify it, Ronan said, “You smell like gasoline.”

 

Tristan stepped back from him, startled. “Oh. Um. Day job.”

 

“Mechanic?” Ronan guessed. Tristan nodded, almost rueful.

 

“Apparently one shower just isn’t enough these days,” his light tone was catching on itself, more self deprecating than irreverent. “I could have another. If you don’t mind. I wouldn’t take long.”

 

“No,” Ronan shook his head, reaching out to pull him close again. “It’s...it’s good. I like it.”

 

Tristan smiled again, this time soft and maybe even a little shy. He had a nice mouth. And when he wasn’t smarming out quips and smirking sideways like some kind of harlequin caricature, it was even nicer. He was, overall, inarguably nice to look at. And he smelled good. And his big hands were snaking up Ronan’s back now, trailing up his spine to rest on the back of his neck. And Ronan didn’t exactly hate the way it made him shiver.

 

“We should,” Ronan swallowed thickly as Tristan’s fingers worked their way into the short scruff of his hair, fingernails scratching against his scalp. “Go upstairs.”

 

“Okay.” Tristan pressed his lips lightly to Ronan’s ear. Too featherlight and dry to be considered a kiss. “Lead the way.”

 

*******

 

Casual sex was a foreign concept to Ronan. He felt burdened by men who expected _kisses_ after first dates. Intimacy was something that was earned. Through honesty and trust and _time_. It wasn’t that he felt it was immoral to hook up with a stranger, he just didn’t understand how it could possibly be enjoyable. Of course he could look across a crowded room and find someone beautiful, but that didn’t really mean anything. They could be terrible inside. Or annoying. Or boring.  


_But that’s the point_ , Blue had told him once. _It’s not like a date, you’re not trying to get the know the person. It’s just sex based on initial physical attraction alone._

 

But Ronan wasn’t certain he could even _be_ physically attracted to someone he’d only known for minutes. Not to the extent where he could become sexually aroused and want to act on it. But here he was now, letting a stranger press him up against the wall of his bedroom, tug his shirt up over his head, breath hot on his neck. And there was no uncertainty about the state of his arousal or his desire to act on it.

 

Maybe it was because what really bothered him about one night stands was that it felt like pretending. Pretending to be interested as you made awkward small talk on the way to someone’s bedroom, pretending the other person cared if you were enjoying yourself as much as they were, pretending you were interested in seeing them again. And this, hiring someone for sex, felt surprisingly more honest. This person was being paid to have sex with Ronan and nothing else. Impersonal, but at least it was upfront.

 

Or maybe it was because Tristan was warm and hard against him and Ronan was so touch starved and Tristan’s shirt was off now and he had freckles all the fuck over his shoulders like spilled cinnamon and Ronan wanted to taste them.

 

Tristan had other plans for Ronan’s mouth, clasping one hand around the back of his neck and pulling him forward to press their lips together. Kissing was the worst part of the whole thing, really. Kissing was too much, too intimate for this. Ronan hadn’t been expecting it, or he would have told him not to do it. He could have pushed away, told him he didn’t like it. But Tristan’s mouth wasn’t the hot, desperate slobbery kind that Ronan had had his fill of in nightclubs and back seats from insistent men who couldn’t read body language. It was soft and tentative, silently asking a question. And Ronan found himself responding in the affirmative, pressing himself forward, opening his mouth, welcoming the warm, wet slide of Tristan’s tongue. His hands wormed their way into Tristan’s murky caramel hair, marveling at the softness of it between his fingers. He let his nails dig in just a little, using the momentum to push their bare chests together. Tristan’s skin was so hot against his and God this felt good, this actually felt _good_.

 

“Daddy?” A small voice cut through the air like a knife, directly plunging itself deep in Ronan’s chest.

 

He would have shoved Tristan away but he was already springing violently away from Ronan like he’d been burned.

 

Ronan whipped his head to the doorway —he’d forgotten to close the fucking door, fuck, fuck— to see his son standing there in his Star Wars pajamas that Noah had bought for him, his dark curly hair frizzy and mussed from sleeping, blinking up at the two shirtless, panting men in front of him with curious confusion on his round little face.

 

“Baby,” Ronan breathed, frantically scanning the room for his shirt. He plucked it from the floor quickly, catching Tristan quietly redressing his own torso out of the corner of his eye. He turned back to his freshly traumatized child. “Why are you out of bed?”

 

“Scary dream,” he said plaintively. “I don’t wanna sleep.”

 

Ronan tried to regain control of his breath. He threw another glance to Tristan, who looked thoroughly horrified, blue eyes frozen wide as he gaped soundlessly at the small child who was toddling farther into the room now, and looking right back up at him.

 

“Who is this?” He wanted to know.

 

“Daddy’s friend,” Ronan’s forced his voice out soft.  A thousand emotions curdled in his gut. Disgust, humiliation, fear, to name a few. But right now all that mattered was making sure his child wasn’t any more frightened than he already was.  “It’s alright. Come on, let me take you back to bed.”

 

“No,” his eyes welled up as if on cue, voice going thick and wobbly. “I don’t wanna sleep.” The tears were spilling over now, short little sobs heaving out as he mumbled on incoherently.

 

“Ducky,” Ronan murmured affectionately. “It’s okay. Daddy’s here.” He reached down to pick him up but his son jerked away. Ronan sighed. The sobs grew louder, shrill and hysterical. Ronan closed his eyes, wincing.

 

When he opened them, Tristan was crouched down beside him.

 

“Hey, little guy,” he said softly. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I’m not little.” The waterworks momentarily paused so Ducky could correct him. “I’m four.”

 

“Oh.” Tristan made his eyes go wide with cartoonish awe. “Wow. That’s big.”

 

“Not as big as five.” It seemed Ronan’s son was in the mood to be contradictory. “I’m not five yet.”

 

“Then you’ll be _really_ big,” Tristan nodded agreeably. “You don’t wanna go back to sleep, huh?”

 

“No!” Ronan could see the stirrings of a tantrum were resurfacing at the mention of being taken back to bed. “I don’t wanna, I don’t feel good.”

 

“What would make you feel better?” Tristan asked him.

 

“I want,” Ducky sniffed loudly, wiping at his face and considering, “juice.”

 

A soft, amused sound escaped Tristan’s mouth. “What kind of juice?”

 

“Apple juice,” Ducky blubbered demurely. “I want apple juice.”

 

Tristan looked to Ronan at that. “Tell me there’s a God,” he whispered, a corner of his mouth turning upward.

 

Ronan sighed heavily. This was the most ridiculous fucked up situation he’d ever fucking put himself in. A prostitute was talking to his son about juice. A prostitute that his son has just seen shirtless, kissing his father, who had also been shirtless. No wonder Ducky didn’t want to be held right now. He was probably freaked the fuck out.

 

Ronan held a hand out to his son, instead, hoping this was an acceptable compromise. “Come downstairs with me. I’ll get you some juice.”

 

“Who are you?” Ducky directed at Tristan, ignoring his father’s outstretched hand.

 

“I’m a friend,” Tristan said easily. “I came to see your dad.”

 

“How come I don’t know you?” Ducky eyed him warily.

 

“I’m a new friend,” Tristan clarified with a soft smile. “My name’s Adam. What’s your name?”

 

“Daniel,” he supplied reluctantly. “But I’m Ducky.”

 

Tristan, who had just called himself Adam, nodded once. “So how bout that juice? Should we go downstairs and get some?”

 

This was too much. Tristan or Adam or whatever the fuck his name was needed to leave. Ronan needed to deal with his son on his own. Ducky was like a landmine when he was upset, the littlest things could set him off. Ronan was the only person who knew how to take care of him and he needed to be doing that. Now. Alone.

 

He cleared his throat to speak, something vague enough as to not upset Ducky but explicit enough for Tristan-Adam to understand the message. But then Ducky was walking over to Tristan-Adam and Tristan-Adam had that horrified look back on his face and Ducky just planted himself in front of him, oblivious. “Okay,” he said, “But I want my blanket first.”

 

“Where’s your blanket?” Tristan-Adam’s voice was a little strained and he had that frozen look back in his eyes. Ducky’s closeness seemed to be making him uncomfortable. Ronan didn’t know if he just didn’t like kids or if it was just the fucking fucked-up-ness of this whole situation. Judging by his previous sweet-talking and willingness to crack his knees, Ronan supposed it was probably more of the latter.

 

“In my room,”  Ducky’s little hands reached up to cling to Tristan-Adam’s shirt collar and tug, which meant he wanted up. “Take me.”

 

All the breath in Ronan’s lungs lodged into throat. Suddenly they were standing and Tristan-Adam the mysterious prostitute had his son cradled in his arms. Ducky’s arms wrapped contentedly around his neck.

 

He raised his eyebrows uncertainly at Ronan. “I’ll get the blanket, you get the juice?”

 

*******

 

Adam had never held a child in his arms before. Adam didn’t have a lot of experience with children in general. But holding a child was something like skydiving or ice-fishing. It was a thing he was aware of that he knew many people took part in, but nothing that he would ever experience for himself.

 

Daniel — _Ducky_ — was soft and warm and light against his chest. He was small for a four year old. His mop of curly hair scratched softly against his cheek as they descended the stairs, blanket thrown over Adam’s free shoulder.

 

Logically, Adam knew he’d fucked clients with children before. But he’d never had to actually see one of these hypothetical children in the flesh, let alone touch them. This was beyond inappropriate. Did this guy have a wife? Husband? Adam hadn’t seen a ring on him, but then again he would have probably taken it off beforehand. Girlfriend or boyfriend, then. Also a possibility. Or maybe he was a single parent. A lonely father who just wanted a no-strings-attached night of sex for himself made sense, was reasonable. A hell of a lot better than some horny adulterer whose significant other was off on a trip somewhere, none the wiser to a strange man who’d almost fucked their partner now carrying their child down a flight of stairs.

 

Ronan N Lynch. That’s what the name on the credit card had read. He could only assume the N stood for something as boisterously Irish as the rest of it. Ronan N Lynch didn’t look like the doting father type. He’d answered the door in a pair of combat boots, shredded black skinny jeans, and a white ribbed tank top. He had a rough face. Attractive, sure, but all sharp lines and hard edges. He looked mean. The shaved head didn’t really help, either. Adam thought he’d had the guy’s number right from that moment, but the way he spoken so soft to his little boy — well, that was unexpected. Adam knew a lot of fathers who would have reacted very differently to what had just happened.

 

Adam stepped warily into the kitchen where Ronan N Lynch was screwing a bright green lid onto a purple sippy cup.

 

He looked up at the two of them, staring blankly and not saying anything.

 

“Got the blanket,” Adam said just to fill the silence.

 

“Got your juice ready,” Ronan said, eyes on his child. He held out his arms. “Wanna come here?”

 

“No,” Ducky answered primly, holding out one hand and making a grabby gesture. “Juice.”

 

Ronan blinked, clearly taken aback. Adam’s body went rigid. He was always shocked by how brash and demanding so many kids were toward their parents. His own parents would have never tolerated that kind of back-talking. Ronan didn’t look pleased, either. Adam’s grip on Ducky tightened out some kind of wild, unexpected protective instinct in him that he’d not known existed until this very moment.

 

But Ronan N Lynch didn’t move to strike his child, he didn’t even raise his voice. He just scoffed in mock offense and handed over the sippy cup.

 

“Do I get a thank you?” Even this was laced with teasing affection, no actual threat. Adam’s body relaxed.

 

“Thank you,” Ducky parroted insincerely, taking a long satisfied swig of his juice.

 

“Feel better?” Adam asked, jostling him in his arms gently.

 

Ducky nodded, still sipping.

 

“Ready to go back to bed?” Ronan tried.

 

Ducky shook his head adamantly. “No. I wanna watch Sofia.”

 

“It’s too late for shows,” Ronan said, “it’s bed time.”

“Daddy, please?” Ducky pouted in such a comically pitiful way, but all the authority was gone from Ronan’s voice when he sighed, “One episode.”

 

Adam had to suppress a snort. What a pushover. Ronan led them from the kitchen into the living room. “You can watch it to fall asleep.”

 

“What if I don’t fall asleep after one episode?” Ducky asked. Ronan gave him a weary look.

 

“Do you know Sofia?” Ducky craned his little head to look up at Adam.

 

“I,” Adam blinked, “can’t say that I do.”

 

“We gotta watch from the beginning,” Ducky told Ronan. “So Adam can know.”

 

“I think Adam wants to go home, baby.” Ronan raised his eyes to meet Adam’s.

 

Ducky looked back up at Adam and then back to Ronan, indignant. “No, he doesn’t.”

 

Adam knew he needed to leave, but he also needed to talk to Ronan about refunding the money he’d paid him. Ronan probably wasn’t thinking about that at the moment, just wanted him out of his house. Still, Adam would rather settle the matter privately between the two of them than have Ronan contact the company Adam worked under once he realized he wanted his money back.

 

“I, uh, I do have to get going,” he finally stuttered out, unaccustomed to having to explain himself to a child.

 

Ducky’s face crumpled and Adam’s anxiety spiked. Ducky was a sweet little thing and Adam had gotten used to the pleasant weight of him in his arms, but holding a crying child was the last thing he wanted to do. Ducky clung to him tight and desperate, tears welling up in his big brown eyes. All at once, he began to wail. Adam struggled to keep him steady in his arms. He should have handed him over to his father, he very much wanted to do just that, but the little boy was hanging onto his neck for dear life. Adam would have had to use force to pry him off. He wasn’t about to manhandle someone else’s child. His eyes flew frantically to Ronan’s, silently asking for help.

 

“Daniel Owen,” Ronan said, quietly stern. He closed the distance between the two of them so he could get a grip on his son. “Come on, now. Come here. Let me hold you.”

 

“I want Adam to stay,” Ducky sobbed. Adam felt the prick of something sharp and warm inside him.

 

“He has to go home and go to sleep,” Ronan tried to appeal to him logically.

 

“He can sleep here,” Ducky insisted breathily through his tears.

 

Ronan sighed, exhausted. “ _Ducky_.”

 

“I can stay,” Adam said quickly, desperate to diffuse the situation before it escalated. Ronan’s head snapped up and Adam cleared his throat and clarified, speaking directly to the distraught little boy in his arms, “We can watch your show until you fall asleep. How does that sound?”

 

Ducky was sniffing hard now, attempting to catch his breath. Adam had the most insane urge to hike him up higher in his arms, squeeze him affectionately. Instead he just bounced him a little, gave him a small smile.  

 

“Okay,” he mumbled, seemingly satisfied.

 

Adam shot Ronan an apologetic glance. Ronan’s face was intimidatingly blank. Adam knew Ronan wanted him gone, and he wanted the very same, but this wasn’t actually a bad turn of events. Once Ducky was asleep he could talk to Ronan about the money situation. Get the whole thing sorted and done with. Then he’d never have to worry about this horribly awkward mess of a night ever again.

 

*******

 

Ronan sat on the opposite end of the couch, arms crossed and jaw set tight. Ducky was in the middle, wrapped up in his blanket and contentedly sipping on his juice.

 

“Adam,” he said, snuggling closer to him, “you’re not watching.”

 

“Sorry,” Adam turned his attention back to the large glowing television screen in front of him.

 

Sofia, as it turned out, was a tiny animated Disney princess that Adam had never heard of before. He was a little confused. From what he could ascertain from the theme song and introduction alone, this was clearly a show intended for little girls. He figured a spritely four year old boy would be into something more...well...boyish.

 

As if the universe itself felt the need to present its offense, the show segued into Sofia singing a song about how ‘ _anything can be a princess thing_ ’, including all the things that the other characters were telling her were just for boys. Adam’s cheeks nonsensically heated, thoroughly chastised by a children’s television program.

 

“He’s asleep,” Ronan’s voice, soft as it was, made Adam jump. He blinked down at the little boy curled against him, eyes closed and mouth slightly parted, breathing slow and deep. His sip cup was slipping out of his little hands. Ronan reached over to catch it before it clattered to the floor.

 

Ronan tucked it under his armpit and reached down to grab his son and scoop him up gently into his arms. Ducky squirmed a little but didn’t wake, relaxed against his father’s shoulder.

 

“I’m gonna tuck him back in,” Ronan said and Adam nodded awkwardly, pulling out his phone and pretending he had things to do on it while he waited for Ronan to come back.

 

Adam stood when Ronan returned, his brain whirring with the most polite and professional way to approach this disaster of a situation.

 

“I’m sorry—about all this,” Ronan said, turning away from him to power off the television, which was still glowing bright, another episode of the little princess show playing. “You must think I’m pretty fucked up, having you over while my kid’s in the house.”

 

“Of course not.” Adam shook his head. “I—uh, I mean, lots of people have kids.” He winced at the awkward words. Clearing his throat, tried again. “Your son is adorable.” He couldn’t help the small smile that grew as he pictured Ducky’s sweet face. “Looks just like you.”

 

Ronan turned around. “He’s not mine.”

 

“Oh,” Adam said, confused. Ducky had definitely been calling Ronan _daddy_ , hadn’t he? “I thought—“

 

“Not like that, I mean,” Ronan clarified. “You said he looked like me.”

 

“Oh,” Adam said, understanding suddenly. “Oh.”

 

“He looks more like my brother, anyway. When we go out together people always assume Ducky is his kid.” Ronan scoffed. “He wishes. Piece of shit.”

 

“My brother, I mean.” Ronan added, as if that hadn’t been clear.

 

“Right,” Adam nodded, increasingly uncomfortable by the second. “Listen, about earlier—”

 

“So, _Tristan_ , huh?” Ronan leveled him with an amused sneer. “Or _Adam_? Which is it?”

 

“Tristan, to you.” Adam smirked, then shrugged. “It’s the name I use while I’m working.”

 

“Well, it sucks,” Ronan replied. “Shitty name.”

 

Adam scoffed, offended. “It’s subtle. Romantic.”

 

Ronan shook his head. “It’s stupid.”

 

“Not as good as _Ducky_ , I guess.” Adam couldn’t help but laugh. “Where did that come from?”

 

“It’s all he would go by when I first found him,” Ronan shrugged. “He was only two and he couldn’t say much. Or maybe he could, but didn’t. He wasn’t a big talker for awhile.”

 

Adam’s eyebrows raised at Ronan’s odd choice of words. “ _Found_ him?”

 

Ronan nodded slowly. “I found him. Two years ago. He’d been left outside a grocery store.”

 

“You’re fucking with me,” Adam realized, rolling his eyes.

 

“No,” said Ronan, solemn as a monk. “I’m serious.” His gaze flitted to Adam’s for a moment and held. “I know. It sounds like some Lifetime movie shit. But that’s what happened.”

 

“And what?” Adam asked. “You just saw some kid toddling around outside a store and thought, damn, it’s my lucky day?”

 

“He was in a carseat,” Ronan said, expression souring at Adam’s derisive tone. “I nearly tripped right over him. I looked down and there was this piece of paper pinned to one of the straps. I opened it and it just said _‘Please take him’_.”

 

“Jesus,” Adam breathed.

 

“So yeah, I picked up the carseat and carried him over to my car. I kept thinking that someone was going to stop me, or say something, but no one did. I got him home—it was freezing out, by the way— he was cold as ice. So I gave him a warm bath and made him some food. He wasn’t scared or crying or anything. He just kept looking around at everything with those big eyes of his. I kept asking him questions, like, ‘Where are your parents? Where are you from?’ That sort of thing. But he just kept saying, ‘I don’t know’.”

 

Ronan paused, as if waiting for Adam to say something, but Adam was speechless.

 

“I asked him what his name was and he wouldn’t tell me that, either,” Ronan continued after a moment. “The shirt he was wearing had these little ducks on them. So I said, ‘you like ducks?’ And he nodded. And then I said, ‘can I call you Ducky?’ And he actually smiled real big and said ‘yes’, and I was like, shit.”

 

Somewhere in the middle of this the two of them had sat back down on the couch. Ample space between them, of course.

 

“So I’m freaking out,” Ronan went on, seemingly caught up in his own storytelling now. “Because I don’t know what to do. So I call my best friend, Gansey, and tell him what’s going on. He _loses_ it. Tells me I should have called the police and that I could possibly be arrested for what I’ve already done, the parents could press charges, whatever. I told him ‘the parents’ could eat my ass. They _left him_. I didn’t want to get the cops involved, or anyone, really. I don’t even know if I really wanted to keep him at that point, I just knew I didn’t want him to be taken away from me. If that makes sense.”

 

Adam nodded, though he didn’t fully understand.

 

“But we had to,” Ronan sighed, weary at the memory. “And eventually they did take him away from me. For a little while.”

 

“How long?” Adam asked.

 

“Few weeks.” Ronan’s expression was pained. “It was awful. When they came to take him. He kept saying, ‘no, no’ and clinging to me. I didn’t want to let him go, either. I promised him it would just be for a little while. I had to get all the legal shit sorted, but of course he didn’t understand that, so I just told him he’d be back with me soon.”

 

“At least you got it sorted pretty quick,” Adam offered, mystified entirely.

 

Ronan shrugged. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without Gansey. Once he knew I was serious about getting Ducky back, he was relentless.” Ronan smiled fondly. “Friends in high places who have friends in even higher places. Money Talks. Et Cetera.”

 

Adam nodded at that, he was quite accustomed to rich people bending the laws to cater to them. Although, in this instance, Adam found himself grateful for it.

 

“Did you ever find his parents?” Adam asked him. “The biological ones, I mean.”

 

Ronan nodded. “Yeah. Well, the police tracked down his mother. I was ready to rip this woman to shreds but,” Ronan shook his head, “it wasn’t like I thought. She was so young. And she was very clearly unwell, you know, mentally.”

 

“Ah,” Adam cringed, “that’s rough.”

 

“Like, she thought she’d done something good. Leaving him like that. She thought since she couldn’t take care of him that she could just _leave him_ somewhere and someone better would pick him up and take him home.”

 

“Well,” Adam felt he had to note, “in her defense, that _is_ what happened.”

 

“Shut up,” Ronan snorted unkindly. “I know. It’s fucking crazy. I think about it all the time. What if I hadn’t gone to the store that day? Or what if I’d come out two minutes later than I did? Anyone could have taken him. Anything could have happened to him.”

 

“But it didn’t,” Adam said softly. “You found him. He’s yours.”

 

“I can’t imagine my life without him,” Ronan said, eyes soft and glassy.

 

“You don’t have to,” Adam said. “Well, I should hope not. How did things end up with the mother?”

 

“She has no rights to custody anymore,” Ronan said, “and there was no father on the birth certificate. She claimed not to know. Anyway, she’s getting help now, as far as I know. I gave her some money. And no—” Ronan looked sharply at Adam. “Not keep-quiet-and-let-me-have-your-kid money. Just enough for her to live on for awhile, get the proper mental and physical care she needed.”

 

“That was,” Adam said, swallowing the information down, “good of you.”

 

Ronan shrugged it off. “Anyway, the point is—once she’s in a better place and Ducky’s a little older...or maybe a lot older...I don’t know...but I want them to be in each other’s lives.” He nodded once, like he’d just decided this officially. “I want that.”

 

“And so... _Daniel_ is his real name?” Adam asked, strangely curious. It wasn’t uncommon for clients to unload on him like this. He supposed it simply came with the job, like being a bartender or a hairstylist. But he’d never been this interested in a client’s personal life before. Maybe it was just the fact that, like Ronan said, this all sounded like something out of a soap opera. And Adam was as curious as anyone else would have been.

 

“Well,” Ronan said, “Yes, but not the one he was born with, if that’s what you mean. See, I got all his birth information from his mother. But when I tried calling him by the name she’d given him, he wouldn’t answer to it. He told me he just wanted to be Ducky. And I was like, _okay_. But then I started getting paranoid about years down the line and his birth name upsetting him and it being a problem. I needed to have his last name changed to mine, anyway, so me and Gansey sat him down and gave him a list of names. The first list was for first names me and my mom and brothers had come up with. The second list was for middle names that Gansey and the rest of my friends liked. We read all the names out to him, showed him what they looked like, told him he could pick a favorite from each list and that would be his new name. So, he did that. Now he’s Daniel Owen Lynch, legally. But he still prefers Ducky.”

 

“Duly noted,” Adam said, laughing softly. “Well, he’s lovely. Seems like you’re doing a great job.”

 

“Yeah,” Ronan scoffed, “apart from the whole paying for sex while he’s sleeping a few feet away.”

 

“Speaking of that,” Adam said, relieved to finally have an opening. “I’d like to get this sorted just between us, if that’s alright with you.”

 

Ronan shot him a vaguely frightened look. “What?”

 

“Your money,” Adam said. “You paid me. But I didn’t—provide any services.”

 

Ronan made a loud _pfft_ sort of sound. “Helping me avoid a stage five temper tantrum is service enough, _Tristan_.”

 

Adam smirked. “That really bothers you, huh?”

 

Ronan made a face. “I’m not really into dishonesty.”

 

Adam bristled. “I think I’m entitled to my privacy if I so desire it.”

 

Ronan held his gaze for a tense moment and Adam couldn’t help but he reminded of their lips crushed together, bodies writhing against each other. For moment, he half- expected Ronan to tell him he wanted them to pick up where they’d left off. But that feeling was gone as soon as it had come. Finally, Ronan simply said, “Fair enough.”

 

Adam stood to leave. “If you’re certain about not being refunded...”

 

Ronan rolled his eyes. “I’m certain. It’s no big deal. You were,” he paused, his voice turning serious, “really good with Ducky. I appreciate that. Not many people know how to be around him. He can be a handful.”

 

Adam’s face screwed up in confusion. “Well, I don’t really have much experience around children, but he seemed well-behaved enough to me. He was just scared. He didn’t want to go back to sleep by himself.”

 

“Yeah,” Ronan said, eyeing Adam strangely. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

 

“Thank you,” Ronan blurted once they reached the doorway. “For helping with Ducky. Seriously, don’t worry about the money. You earned it.”

 

Adam shrugged, feigning humility. He wasn’t one to accept money for nothing, but he did feel oddly sort of accomplished. He _had_ been pretty good with Ducky, hadn’t he? For someone who didn’t know shit about kids. “Who knew I had a future in babysitting?”

 

Ronan huffed out a sardonic laugh, jerked his chin upward in goodbye as Adam stepped out into the cool night air. He pulled out his phone and began making plans to uber a ride back to his own apartment. As unexpected and awkward as this night had turned out to be, he had still gotten paid. To make out with a handsome dad and cuddle with the sweetest little boy he’d ever laid his eyes on, no less. More of a success than a failure, by any and all means.

 

*******

 

Adam hadn’t recognized the address nor the phone number when he’d ordered a ride to his next client’s location, but as the driver closed in on the neighborhood, familiarity smacked into Adam like a suckerpunch. It’d been nearly a month since That Night and he hadn’t given any thought to having to see That Guy ever again. Especially on a Wednesday, at 11 AM.  It was usually the old, lonely, closeted bachelors and divorced middle aged women that called in around those times. But the large, intimidating house the driver pulled to a stop in front of was undoubtedly the residence of the unforgettable Ronan N Lynch, repressed sex fiend and father of one.

 

Adam sighed as he made his way up to the front door. For the first time in his short career of doing this, he really didn’t want to do it. There were less than a handful of clients that were rich and powerful enough to request seeing Adam repeatedly. Having “regulars” wasn’t really something that was encouraged by the agency. Ronan N Lynch must have connections he’d used to his advantage. Or paid the agency more money under the table. Adam felt his stomach turn and he couldn’t explain why. It was just weird. Weird because of the kid, because of everything that had happened that night. Things were awkward with clients sometimes, but Adam had never really been put in a position in which he just really _didn’t want_ to have sex with them. Until now. But it wasn’t like he could just say that. Ronan would be offended and then he’d report back to Adam’s employers and he’d be out of this job.

 

Adam liked this job, 99.9% of the time. As for this .1%, he’d just have to get over it. _Ronan is attractive, a nice person_ , he reminded himself. _It could be much, much worse. You’re supposed to be a professional. You can do this._

 

Feeling more than a little ridiculous at his own discomfort, he pulled out his phone and dialed.

 

*******

 

Ronan flew to the door as soon as he felt his phone buzz. He opened it and stepped outside, wincing in the direct sunlight. There was Adam. AKA _Tristan_. All backlit and blinking like a confused male model. For a moment a sore spot in his chest erupted, unwittingly recalling the crush of his lips and the weight of his body against his own weeks prior.

 

“Wh—” his gaze dropped down and rose slowly, taking in Ronan’s attire. His entire face transformed in an instant. A devilish smile played at his lips as he met Ronan’s eyes. “Got all dressed up just for me?”

 

Ronan didn’t have time for this. “First of all,” he sighed. “I hate that you do that. It’s creepy.”

 

“Do what?” Adam was puzzled. Then his voice turned honey sweet. “I haven’t done anything, yet.”

 

“That...that!” Ronan threw out a hand wildly. “You go from normal sounding human to programmed sex-bot. I feel like I’m in a _Terminator_ movie or something.”

 

“I don’t know what _Terminator_ movies you’ve been watching,” Adam scoffed. “Maybe you’re thinking of _A.I._ ”

 

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Just don’t do it. I mean, I get that that’s, like, your job or whatever. But I don’t like it.”

 

Adam looked severely put-out for a moment, then shrugged. “Alright.”

 

Ronan sighed, this was really not the time to be pissing this guy off. Ronan needed him. He clenched and opened his fists. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just — this is an emergency.”

 

Adam’s thick eyebrows raised considerably. “Are we roleplaying or something? Is that what the clothes are about?”

 

Ronan growled under his breath, one hand reaching up anxiously to tug at the oxygen-withholding tie around his neck. “No. Listen. This is going to sound crazy, but please just hear me out. I—I have to be somewhere. A work thing—”

 

“A work thing?” Adam looked dubious. “I really didn’t take you for the office type.”

 

“I’m not,” Ronan shook his head. “I work for a graphic design company. From home, obviously. But I just got a call this morning from my supervisor that our newest client wants me in-person to meet about the branding stuff we’ve been working on for the past month. A skype conference isn’t going to cut it, apparently.”

 

Adam was gaping at him like he had transformed into some terrifying creature. “Okay,” he said slowly. “What does that have to do with me? You want a quickie to calm your nerves or something?”

 

“No!” Ronan was done trying to ease him into this. He needed to leave ten minutes ago. “Jesus. It’s not a sex thing. I need someone to watch Ducky.”

 

Adam barked out a startled laugh. He sputtered, eyes wide, “What...you mean... _me_?”

 

“I told you it was an emergency,” Ronan’s cheeks flooded with uncomfortable warmth. This was an insane thing to do. Certifiably. But he was desperate. “Gansey’s out of town visiting his parents and the rest of my friends and family are far away right now, too. I don’t have anyone else.”

 

“I,” Adam still hadn’t recovered. “I don’t—I’m not—why don’t you call a daycare or something?”

 

“Because I can’t,” Ronan groaned. “Ducky can’t be left alone with people. He wigs out when I leave him alone with _Gansey_ , who’s he’s been around for over two years now. I can’t just have any run of the mill babysitter watch him. He doesn’t—he just can’t handle it.”

 

“So,” Adam shook his head, “what the fuck? What makes you think you can leave him alone with me?”

 

“Adam,” Ronan said, dropping all pent-up pretenses. “I’ve never seen Ducky react to anyone the way he did with you that night. I told you, he gets squirmy and upset around people he _knows_ , so you can imagine how much strangers are a fucking no-go. But he let you hold him. He let me leave you with him while you got his blanket. You don’t understand. He just doesn’t do that. He’s never done that.”

 

A string of unreadable emotions flittered across Adam’s face. “Ronan,” he said, “I’m sorry. I know you’re in a bind but—I can’t—I mean, I have no experience with taking care of children.”

 

“I won’t be gone more than an hour, two tops,” Ronan’s eyes were pleading. “It’s not like he’s an infant. He goes to the bathroom by himself. He can feed himself. There’s some TV dinners in the freezer if he gets hungry.”

 

“Jesus Christ.” Adam raised a hand to grasp his forehead. Ronan couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen anyone actually _facepalm_ in real life.

 

“I mean, obviously, I’ll pay you,” Ronan was momentarily concerned that part of the deal hadn’t been clear. “Same amount as last time. Or more. I don’t care. Name your price.”

 

“I just,” Adam removed his hand to look Ronan in the eyes. “I’m having a hard time processing the fact that you called an escort agency to hire a babysitter. Like you literally,” Adam’s eyes were wide and slightly wild, “called...an escort agency...and requested _me_ , an escort, to watch your child. Are you aware that that is what’s happening, here?”

 

“Very,” Ronan scoffed, he’d already had several existential crises over it in the hours prior to making this decision. “I told you, you’re the only person on Earth who is available right now who I think Ducky would be okay alone with.”

 

“You—don’t know me,” Adam spat, incredulous. “I could be a serial killer. A—person who hurts kids.”

 

“You’re not,” Ronan said, uncertain of how he was sure of this, but undoubted that he was correct. “I know you’re not.” He pulled out his phone to check the time and cursed. “I’m out of time. Are you in or out?”

 

“I—I….yes. Alright. Fine.” Adam shook his head slowly, like he couldn’t believe his own words. “I mean, I’m already here. Fuck. I. Okay, sure. Only a couple hours?”

 

“At the most, I promise,” Ronan felt his entire body relax and tense at the same time. One part of this plan was secured. He ushered Adam inside, reaching for his wallet and pulling out his credit card. He handed it to him and Adam sighed, pulling out his phone and swiping it. He looked like a man on death row. Maybe he really couldn’t do this. _It’s just for a couple hours_ , he reminded himself. _Maybe even less. It’ll be fine. This will work._

 

“Ducky!” Ronan called as he re-pocketed his wallet. “Come here, baby.”

 

*******

 

Adam’s heart thundered in time with the rowdy footsteps that brought Ronan’s son barreling into the front room in which they stood.

 

Ducky was even smaller than Adam remembered. It was hard to believe he was truly four years old. He looked up at Adam with those big brown eyes, blinking and tilting his head, confused. This was going to be a disaster. The child probably didn’t even remember him. If being left alone with strangers was such a problem, as Ronan had led him to believe, Adam was the worst possible stranger to leave him alone with.

 

“Adam!” Ducky chirped, shrill and excited, rushing forward to wrap himself around Adam’s leg. “You came back!”

 

Adam’s gaze flicked to Ronan, who was smiling softly. Looking quite pleased with himself. Adam’s stomach was still in knots. _Two hours_ , he repeated to himself. _Two hours._

 

“Baby,” Ronan murmured sweetly. “Daddy has to go take care of something at work, for just a little bit. Adam’s going to stay here with you until I get back. Okay?”

 

Ducky disentangled himself from Adam’s leg, looked sharply up toward his father. “You’re leaving?”

 

Ronan faltered for a moment, then bent down to pick his child up and give him a light squeeze. “I won’t be gone long. A couple hours at the most. But Adam’s going to stay here and keep you company. You’ve missed Adam, haven’t you?”

 

“Y-yeah,” Ducky mumbled reluctantly, overwhelmed by all the information. He looked back toward Adam, shy but curious. “Daddy said you were busy and that’s why you hadn’t been back yet.”

 

“Uh—yes,” Adam tried to recover quickly from the idea that the two of them had discussed Adam in his absence. “That’s right. But...I’m here now.” He tried to smile, he felt his lips twitching as he did so.

 

“Daddy,” Ducky’s voice wobbled. “I don’t want you to go.”

 

“I know,” Adam could see it was hard for Ronan to feign calm, he was just as anxious as his child was. “But it’s just for a little bit. I’ll be back really soon. And Adam’s going to stay with you.”

 

Ducky’s chin quivered. “But….but…” His eyes were welling up now.

 

A sharp prick to the chest drove Adam to action. Distraction. That was what had worked the last time. It was certainly worth another try.

 

“Hey,” he said, reaching out to tentatively touch Ducky’s hair. “What was that show we watched together? Do you remember?”

 

“Yes,” Ducky sniffed back his tears. “Sofia.”

 

“That’s it,” Adam nodded animated, “I really liked it. Could we watch it again today? You and me?”

 

“Yes,” Ducky sniffed again. “Daddy too?”

 

“Daddy has to go for a little bit,” Adam reminded him gently. “But we can start watching it now and I bet he’ll be back before we finish all the episodes.” Adam had no idea how many episodes existed, he could only hope his guess was accurate. “Come on,” he held his arms out to Ducky. “Remind me what happened in the first one.”  

 

Ducky reached out for Adam, happily letting himself be shifted from his father’s arms to his. He was babbling rapidly about the show now, and other things he wanted to show Adam. Ronan made a jerky movement forward, but Adam shook his head, and Ronan backed away, lips pursed and jaw clenched.

 

 _Go_ , Adam mouthed to him. It was best for him to leave now, while Ducky was distracted. He put a steadying hand on Ducky’s back, trying to assure Ronan he had everything under control. Ronan blew out a hard breath, nodded once, and left.

 

Ducky didn’t seem to notice. He was yanking himself down from Adam’s grasp and toddling over to the couch, climbing up onto it. Adam tried to keep him engaged as he fiddled with the remote, figuring out how to access the Netflix he’d seen Ronan use to watch the show the last time he was here. He asked him questions and made sure to answer back loud and expressive.

 

By the time he’d gotten the show to start playing, he was more nervous than he could ever remember being. This was worse than any job interview, than his first day at college, than his first day on this particular job. This was being left alone and in charge of a living, breathing child. Adam liked to think he was in control of his own emotions, especially when it came to fear. He’d mastered that from a young age. But this was something he’d never, in his life, planned for. He swallowed thickly, let out a shaky breath. Ronan had been so confident that Adam could do this, and Ducky was so eager and trusting, sidling right up next to Adam and leaning against him. It terrified and infuriated and warmed him, in very different and complex ways.

 

“Adam,” Ducky said, and Adam’s heart skipped painfully in his chest.

 

He cleared his throat, forcing his voice out steady and pleasant. “Yeah?”

 

Ducky gave him a modest pout. “Will you get me some juice?”

  
Adam’s heart restarted. He couldn’t help but smile. “Yes,” he told him. “Juice. I can do that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as you all know, i started writing this before i had read TRK, and now that i have, i felt i had to rework this chapter to include henry, it just felt weird not to write him in. so now he has been quite crudely frankenstein stitched into the story. hope that's cool. 
> 
> thanks for all the comments and support for this story <3 you guys are too good to me.

There was no doubt about it. Ronan was a horrible person.

He lamented this fact as he stretched out on his favorite park bench, perfect in its location and seclusion, an old friend he hadn't made nice with since...well...Ducky. He'd been almost permanently glued to the boy's side since he'd found him. He didn't mind that, most days. He loved his son. He wanted to be around him all the time, to hold him close, keep him safe. And the first time he'd left Ducky alone with Adam, it hadn't been easy for him. It was a desperate, spur of the moment decision. It was something that was unfortunate but necessary. He'd done it because he hadn't seen any other solution. And his stomach had been in knots the entire time. It took every ounce of willpower that existed in his body to force himself to focus on the job he had to do and not turn around and race home back to his little boy, squeeze him tight and promise to never leave again. The separation anxiety went both ways, as it turned out.

So, this was good for both of them. Ronan told himself this often. The system that had been spawned from that morning, that is. Of course he'd come home to both his son and the man he'd left him with in one piece. The two of them sprawled out on the living room floor, constructing something with legos. And relief washed over him like a soft summer storm. He'd actually successfully left Ducky alone with someone for two whole hours. And Ducky didn't seem to be physically or emotionally damaged in any way. He was a ball of tiny excitement, bouncing and babbling and whining when Adam had to leave.

"I'm sorry, Ducky," Adam had murmured, sweeter and realer than any tone of voice Ronan had ever heard him use. "But I had so much fun with you today."

"Will you come back soon?" Ducky had pouted. To which Adam and Ronan floundered. Neither of them wanted to break his heart, but neither of them wanted to lie to him.

"I—uh—well," Adam's face was a mess of awkward creases. "We'll see."

"Daddy," Ducky turned hopefully to face his father. "What about the next time you have to go somewhere? Can Adam come see me again?"

Ronan had looked at Adam and Adam had looked back. They held each other's gaze for a long, long moment. _What the hell have you done to my kid?_ Ronan wondered in a complicated mixture of suspicion and awe.

"Sure," Ronan finally said, tossing the ball into Adam's court. "If Adam wants to."

It was a test. Obviously. To see if this guy was worth any more of his time or not.

Ducky was already jumping up and down and celebrating. Adam didn't visibly react to being put on the spot. He simply reached into his pocket for a phone, a different phone than Ronan had seen before, and typed something into it.

"Texted you," Adam said. "Next time don't go through the a-g-e-n-c-y," Ronan felt a stab of something startlingly close to fondness at Adam spelling out the word. "Just text or call me directly."

"Seriously?" Ronan asked, a loaded question. He watched Adam wade his way through it.

"Yes," he said, kneeling down to ruffle Ducky's hair. "See you soon, kiddo."

Ronan figured he should probably head back now. He'd been killing time for almost three hours. It was the longest time he'd left Ducky alone with Adam. It had only been a couple months and the two hour mark seemed to be the most comfortable amount of time for all three of them. Ronan really didn't think another hour would make much difference, Ducky worshipped the ground Adam walked on, and Adam made up for lack of experience in child rearing with his neurotic attention to detail. As soon as Ronan walked in the door he'd start rattling things off to him like some kind of obedient soldier. What they'd watched, what toys they'd played with, what he'd given Ducky to eat and drink, how many times he'd gone to the bathroom.

"Fucking _relax_ ," Ronan had told him on more than one occasion. "I don't need a goddamn play-by-play."

"Fine," Adam was known to answer back hotly. "I just thought you'd want to know what a stranger is doing with your child for hours at a time."

"You're not really a stranger," Ronan would remind him with a sigh. "You're _daddy's_ _new friend_ , remember?"

And then Adam would recoil at the word _daddy_. Or maybe the word _friend_. Ronan wasn't entirely sure.

"Adam's _my_ friend!" Ducky would insist loudly, kicking over lego towers, uninterested in their bickering.

"That's right," Adam would scoop him up and sometimes even plant a soft kiss somewhere in his hair.

And then Ronan would pay him. It was a weird thing they had going on. But it worked.

Except today Ronan was greeted with an unfamiliar, eerie quiet as he stepped into his home. He tried to remain calm but this was...odd. He'd knocked and gotten no answer. Usually Adam was right there, ready to tell him how many times Ducky had blinked or whatever. But today he'd actually had to fish out his own keys and let himself in.

His heart lodged in his throat, he stomped noisily into the living room, calling out for his son.

"Daddy," Ducked hissed at him, sitting cross-legged in front of the television and fixing him with a hard glare. "Shh! Adam's sleeping."

Ronan blinked at his son, his heart repositioning itself in his chest where it belonged. The whiplash from wild terror to all encompassing relief was dizzying. He turned to face the couch to see Adam curled up on it, eyes closed and breathing deep.

"Jesus," Ronan scoffed, moving to swipe Adam's feet out from under him.

Adam startled badly, thrashing as if he were underwater.

"Whoa!" Ronan sprang back from him. "Relax."

"I…" Adam was breathing hard, head darting around like a feral animal. "Wh...I...Did I fall asleep?"

"Apparently," Ronan eyed him, eyebrows raised. "You alright?"

"Ducky!" Adam's eyes widened when they landed on him. He jumped up from the couch and nearly fell over his own feet trying to reach him. "Are you okay? How long was I asleep?"

"I don't know," Ducky shrugged, unalarmed by Adam's crazed behavior. "Awhile."

Adam let out a breath that sounded painful. "Ducky, why didn't you wake me up?"

Ducky was confused by this. "You were asleep."

"I—I," Adam directed this at Ronan, "I didn't mean to fall asleep. Fu-uh-" he paused, blinked, righted himself. "I'm sorry. It was an accident. We...were watching TV and I just...I guess I just passed out."

"Should've set an alarm," Ronan noted.

"I know," Adam said. "I know. Jesus. I'm sorry." He pulled Ducky into his arms, relief and anguish warring on his face. "Ducky, you should have woken me up."

"I thought you wanted to sleep," Ducky frowned.

"I need to be awake to make sure you're okay," Adam told him. "You could hurt yourself playing or get hungry or need my help."

Ducky's frown was wobbling now. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, baby, no." Adam stroked a hand through the little boy's hair, scoffing lightly. " _I'm_ in trouble."

"No one's in trouble!" Ronan threw his hands out. "You two are being really dramatic."

It wasn't exactly ideal that Adam had fallen asleep watching Ducky, he was _paying_ him to do this, afterall. But it wasn't like Adam was really a normal babysitter, either. This situation had been twisted and bizarre from the very beginning. And these days, Ronan felt as comfortable leaving Ducky alone with Adam as he would have with one of his family members. And he couldn't bring himself to be anymore upset with Adam than he would have with Matthew or Gansey. It was obvious that it was an accident and not something that happened often. Ronan had been guilty of doing the same exact thing on more than one occasion. Toddlers had infinite pools of energy inside their tiny little bodies and when Ducky was all charged up he could be incredibly exhausting.

"Well, I feel awful about it," Adam insisted when Ronan was showing him out. He kept apologizing, even though Ronan had assured him that everything was fine. Sometimes Adam's neuroses about this whole thing skewed more annoying than practical.

"Jesus, Adam," Ronan sighed, frustrated. "You get so wound up over the littlest things. Take a chill pill."

"Take a chill pill?" Adam squinted at him. "Did you just windsurf in from the 90s?"

"No way to talk to your boss," Ronan warned, amused.

Adam scoffed. "You are so not my boss."

"I'm the one paying you, aren't I?"

"I have other ways to make money," Adam reminded him. "You need me more than I need you."

"Wow," Ronan drowned out the uncomfortable twist in his stomach with dripping sarcasm. "Say that to Ducky."

"Say what!" Ducky was running a figure eight in between their legs now. "Say what!"

"Nothing," Adam reached down to capture him mid-sprint. Ducky screeched in delight. "You know that's not...what I meant." Adam directed at Ronan as he lifted Ducky up into his arms.

"Adam," Ducky pouted. "Stay for dinner."

Ronan never could convince Adam to hang out for a bit and have a meal with them but that didn't stop Ducky from trying his luck, every time. At least today they had an out.

Ronan reached for his little boy. "We're eating dinner at Gansey and Blue's house, remember? You'll get to see Uncle Noah and Henry, too."

"And Adam too," said Ducky, very accustomed to getting his way.

Adam shifted from easy and playful to rigid and awkward. "Sorry Ducky." He gave him an exaggerated frown. "I can't. But I'll see you again soon, okay?"

Ducky's displeasure was clear on his face, but he didn't throw a fit. He'd been getting better about that lately. He let Adam ruffle his hair in a quick goodbye without any more fuss.

"Same time next week?" Ronan asked casually as he paid Adam. No matter how many times they did this, the payment thing, it never felt any less unpleasant for Ronan. It was his least favorite part of the whole ordeal. Not that Adam didn't deserve it. He took great care of Ducky, he more than earned it. It just always took him right back to that first night. To the first time he'd ever paid Adam. For an entirely different service.

A service that had never happened.

"Sure," Adam agreed easily, clearly sharing none of Ronan's lingering anxiety over an aborted encounter. He handed him his card and smiled at him with all the intimacy of a gas station cashier. "Have a good night."

 

*******

 

Dinner had been going well. Everyone was excited to see Ducky, of course, and they all had presents for him. A forgivable offense from Blue and Noah. They'd been traveling, they had things for everyone. Henry and Gansey did not share these same justifications.

"Between you two pieces of shit and my brothers, you're gonna turn my kid into a spoiled rotten asshole."

"That's not our problem," Henry grinned at Ducky wriggling happily in Gansey's lap as he helped him learn the features of his state of the art telescope. "You gotta raise him right, Lynch."

"He can come live with me when he's in his rebellious teen years," Noah announced, appearing on Ronan's other side. "I'll take him to Warped Tour."

Ronan rolled his eyes. "If I raise the kind of child who wants to go to Warped Tour, you can have him."

"I think he'll be more of a Coachella fella, myself." Henry mused, sharing a mischievous glance with Noah. "Minus the cultural appropriation."

"You're both wrong," Gansey called from the floor, "He won't have time for music festivals. He'll be too busy writing modern classics. He'll bring about a renaissance for the straight play. Oh, Blue, we really should have gotten those illustrated Shakespeares we saw at the bookstore."

"Stop trying to predict the future," Blue snapped at the lot of them. "I get enough of that back home."

"Besides," she plopped herself down on the floor beside Gansey, giving Ducky a quick nuzzle. "Growing up in this family, I don't think there's going to be anything _straight_ about him."

"Here, here!" Henry raised his wine glass jubilantly. Ronan shoved him, dark red liquid splashing onto his pristine tailored suit jacket.

"Oh, Ronan," Gansey sighed.

"That's alright," Henry shrugged. "Gives it character."

Gansey was frowning paternally. "What kind of example are you setting?"

"Ducky," Ronan addressed his son. "Don't shove people. Daddy's only allowed to shove Uncle Henry because—"

"He's awful," Henry finished. "But Uncle Henry loves him, anyway." Henry leaned his head on Ronan's shoulder. "That's a lesson in tolerance for you, Ducky."

Ducky giggled at them, small and simple in his understanding of the flock of disastrous adults he was stuck with.

"C'mere, cutie pie," Blue reached over to drag him into her own lap and give him a big squeeze. "I sure have missed you."

Ducky was still preoccupied with the telescope Gansey was dutifully piecing together.

"Ducky," Ronan said, "Haven't you missed your fairy godmother?"

"Yes!" Ducky looked up at Blue, smiling wide and gap-toothed at her.

She leaned down to touch her nose to his. "What has my sweet prince been up to? Has your daddy been good? If not, I'll lock him in the basement and turn him into a toad."

"Daddy's had to go a lot of places," Ducky said, "But it's okay because when Daddy leaves Adam comes over to play with me. He makes me tacos and we watch Sofia together. He can build the tallest lego towers and then he lets me smash them!"

Blue laughed at his animated storytelling, then looked to Gansey questioningly. "Adam?" She turned to Ronan. "Who's Adam?"

Ronan had planned for this. Adam was Ducky's babysitter. It was the truth. And no one needed to know about the uncomfortable origins under which he'd been hired.

"He's daddy's new friend!" Ducky answered before Ronan could open his mouth. "First he came over to see Daddy and kiss him but now he comes to see me, too."

Blue's mouth fell open. Gansey dropped whatever piece of the telescope he'd been holding. Noah and Henry had stopped chattering on either side of him. All eyes were on Ronan.

"Ronan," Gansey was the first to speak. He looked up at him, a curious half smile playing on his lips. "You're...you're seeing someone?"

Ronan had not planned for this.

He had hoped that Ducky had been disoriented with sleep to the point that when he'd seen his father kissing another man that he would have just forgotten about it. And when Ducky never brought it up to him, he'd assumed his hopes had been realized.

Apparently not.

What could he say? He couldn't simply say Adam was Ducky's babysitter and nothing more, now, could he? He couldn't call his son a liar.

But he couldn't tell the truth, either. The truth was too embarrassing, too personal, too complicated to try to explain with his child in the room.

So he just gave a casual shrug. "Yeah. I've been seeing someone."

And the room exploded.

 

*******

 

Adam had planned for a quiet evening spent studying and getting a leg up on his paper that was due next week. When his phone buzzed bright white on his desk, his heart dipped into his stomach and back up again. He'd been carefully dodging calls from a number that he wished he didn't still know by sight for awhile now. He knew he'd have to answer eventually. Perhaps tonight was as good enough as any.

He reached for the phone and slid it closer to him, still undecided.

He was surprised to see Ronan's number. He never called this late. And Adam had already watched Ducky earlier today. Maybe he was calling to talk about the fact that Adam had fallen asleep when he was supposed to be taking care of his kid. Maybe he was calling to tell Adam he didn't want him around Ducky anymore. The thought was unfamiliarly painful to consider. Adam could still smell Ducky's sweet scented shampoo on his shirt. His heart clenched in his chest. He didn't want to answer, didn't want to care.

Almost as soon as the **1 Missed Call** notification popped up, a new text message appeared.

**need to talk to you asap**

Adam sighed. At least texting was less exposing than a phone call.

_Sorry, phone was on silent. What's up?_

His phone pinged immediately.

**are you busy right now?**

An odd feeling washed over Adam. _Not really_ , he sent after a moment. _Everything okay?_

A few minutes passed with no response from Ronan. Adam watched as the little gray bubbled ellipsis that signified a message being typed popped up and vanished several times. The odd feeling swirled stronger in Adam's chest.

All at once, a mammoth wall of text appeared.

**my friends are all freaking out ducky was**

**talking about you and they asked who you**

**were and i was going to tell them you're his**

**babysitter because well you are but ducky**

**said some stuff about that time he...saw us...**

**and i couldn't really explain the actual situation**

**because he was right there and i didn't want to**

**get him all confused and upset and so i just went**

**with it and now my friends want to meet you**

Adam snorted. Ducky was one talkative little mess-maker, indeed. But he didn't really understand why Ronan's friends had any interest in him.

_I don't get it. Why do they want to meet me?_

The gray typing bubble might as well have been a strobe light.

**because they think we're together. like, dating.**

All the breath left Adam's body.

_WHAT?_

_Why the fuck would you tell them that?_

**i didn't**

**not really**

**i just said I'd been seeing someone**

_That's the same thing!_

**what else should i have done? it was either call**

**my kid a liar in front of everyone and have ducky throw**

**a fit or announce to the entire room that i'd hired someone**

**for sex and now they watch my child. ducky wouldn't**

**understand all that. it'd just confuse him. it was easier**

**to just let my friends assume what they wanted.**

_Jesus Christ, Ronan._

_So, what? What do you want me to do?_

_Show up to your dinner party and_

_pretend to be your boyfriend?_

Adam had meant it as a joke. But Ronan's reply was as quick as it was insane.

**i can pay you**

… _.Seriously?_

_I know you have it in your head that all sex_

_workers are mindless gutter sniping monsters_

_or whatever but I'm not that desperate for your_

_fucking money._

**i don't think that….**

**i think it's obvious who the desperate**

**one here is**

**look i know it's fucking crazy, ok?  
i just had to ask. everyone's losing**

**their goddamn minds over this.**

**so stupid. and then of course it got**

**ducky all riled up, asking for you...**

Adam's heart beat harder in his chest. It was such a thing to be wanted by someone. Even a child. Or especially a child. Adam didn't have much experience in being wanted. He wasn't sure.

**and you don't have to pretend to be my 'boyfriend'.**

**i told them we haven't put a label on it yet**

_My God._

If it meant he didn't have to worry about money for another month, was Adam capable of doing something like this? Possibly. He knew how to present himself and make-nice with people. It wouldn't be so hard. But one large piece of this puzzle didn't fit.

_I thought you weren't 'into dishonesty'._

**i'm not**

**I don't like this situation any more**

**than you do. it all just fucking**

**happened. It's not like i planned it**

**and now i'm stuck**

Adam couldn't believe he was actually considering this.

_What am I supposed to do if your friends_

_ask questions? Like relationship-type_

_questions?_

**just make shit up. i'll go along with  
whatever you say.**

' _I'll go along with whatever you say.'_ Adam snorted. That had a nice, pleasing ring to it.

_What about Ducky?_

_Won't /this/ be confusing for him?_

**he won't think anything of you being**

**around. if he asks questions i will**

**talk to him about it later.**

Adam sighed. There was only one question left to ask.

_How much you offering?_

**name it**

_Be my slave for a week?_

**wow, you are so hilarious**

**whatever just tell me whenever you**

**decide but you know i'm good for it.  
i'm texting you the address now**

_Fine._

_See you soon, baby._

**please don't**

_You said you'd go along with whatever_

_I say. ;) ;) ;)_

**if you act like a fucking weirdo**

**my friends will know something's up**

**are you sure you can do this?**

_Relax. I'm not an idiot._

 

*******

 

"He doesn't have any food allergies, does he?" Gansey was frantic. "Does he like Chinese?"

"He will after I'm through with him," Henry teased.

"Oh gosh, maybe we should pick up more. Or cook something else." Gansey was too anxious to even cast a withering glance toward Henry. "I don't know if we have enough."

"There's enough food here for, like, twenty people," Noah sighed. "Chill, dudes. You're making Ronan sweat. He can't be looking all gross when his man candy gets here."

"I think Richard is the one we need to worry about," Henry noted. "You look downright peaked, man."

"I wish you'd tell us _something_ about him," Gansey scoffed. "At least then we'd know what to expect."

"He's…"

Ronan didn't really know how to begin to describe Adam. He wasn't freakish to look at, no wild hair or visible tattoos or piercings or anything like that. He wondered if that was the type of man his friends were imagining. He wondered what they would think when they saw clean cut and mild mannered Adam. He'd probably be dressed as nice as Henry and Gansey were, wearing one of his classic shoulder hugging button downs. The washed out blue one that matched his eyes came to mind.

Ronan's phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and examined the text message notification. "...Here."

Gansey cleared his throat and straightened himself, obnoxious and unsubtle. Ronan rolled his eyes but when he heard a knock at the door his stomach clenched. He rolled his shoulders, took a deep breath, and moved to open the door.

He couldn't help but smirk at what he saw. "Nice shirt."

Adam frowned, reaching up to adjust the deep red tie around his neck. "Too much?"

Ronan took the opportunity to eye him up and down. He looked more like he was dressed for a job interview than a casual dinner. Tucked in and belted and pressed gray slacks. But Ronan had expected as much. He wasn't sure if Adam owned any other kind of clothing. He'd pay good money to see Adam in jeans and a threadbare t-shirt.

At least his hair wasn't gelled down. It looked better like this. Softer against his sharply drawn face.

"You look fine," Ronan said, his nerves sparking at the realization that he had to invite Adam inside now. Everyone would see him, speak to him, culminate first impressions of him. And he of them. He was also beginning to realize just how bad of an idea this was. But it was too late to go back now. He stepped back from the doorway. "Come in."

It was a feat that Ronan resisted the urge to cross himself as he led Adam into the dining room where Henry, Noah, and Gansey were still setting the table.

Henry was the first to look up. His gaze slid quickly from Ronan to Adam. "Jesus," he said.

Noah was next. His face melted into a wide, impish grin. Ronan glared and Noah bit his lip, turning to share a quick glance with Henry.

Gansey was just staring, a deer in headlights.

Finally, Adam spoke up.

"I feel weird being empty handed," Adam said, "I was going to stop and get a bottle of wine or something, but I figured I shouldn't keep you waiting."

"Oh, don't be silly," Gansey immediately shook out of his daze to smile politely and carefully at Adam. "You absolutely only needed to bring yourself. And we've got more than enough wine to go around. I'll get you a glass. Red or white?"

"Oh, no thank you." Adam shook his head. "I don't drink."

"My apologies." Gansey turned his gaze on Ronan, heated and betrayed. "Would've been nice to know that."

Ronan shrugged. He hadn't known.

"Are you gonna introduce us or what?" Noah called out, earning him a soft snicker from Henry.

"Adam," Ronan turned briefly to his almost prostitute turned sort of babysitter turned fake boyfriend. "The loudmouth goblin over there is Noah Czerny, the sixth member of One Direction is Henry Cheng, and then of course, there's my father, Richard Campbell Gansey the Third."

"There are only four people in One Direction." Henry wasted no time striding over to shake Adam's hand. "Christ, you're even more good-looking up close."

"My hands are all greasy," Noah sighed from where he was. "But rest assured, we will touch before the night is over."

Adam laughed good-naturedly and Ronan's anxiety seemed to be unable to decide to ease off or worsen.

Gansey shot Ronan another disapproving look as he made his way over, still smarting from his embarrassment about the wine, but treated Adam to his best and brightest smile. "It's nice to meet you. I wish I could say I've heard a lot about you but Ronan has, as I'm sure you've ascertained, told us next to nothing."

Ronan scoffed but Adam was quick to start the damage control.

"It's alright. It's my fault, actually. I think Ronan just thought he was doing what I wanted."

This was, as Ronan could have guessed, greeted with a resounding chorus of dissent.

"I have heard a bit about you guys," Adam continued, "It's nice to have faces to put to the names, now." He smiled as he spoke, his eyes lingering on Gansey, friendly and genuine.

Gansey was obviously charmed. "I'll go get Blue," he stammered, blushing as he went.

Blue appeared a moment later, carrying Ducky behind her, piggy-back style.

"Adam!" Ducky's shriek was ear-splitting as he wriggled down from Blue's back and ran over to attach himself to Adam's legs. "You're here!"

At the sight of him, everything about Adam seemed to loosen. He smiled big and unrehearsed. "Hey, buddy."

"I wanna show you my telescope!"

"We're gonna eat now, Ducky-boy," Blue told him firmly. "You can show him after dinner."

Ducky was too excited to pout. He tugged on Adam's pant leg until Adam reached down to scoop him up into his arms.

"So are we eating or what?" Henry asked.

"Yes, yes." Gansey waved his hands and instructed everyone to sit down and help themselves.

"Here," Ronan held his arms out for Ducky so Adam could make himself a plate of food. "I'll take him."

"No!" Ducky whined, clinging himself tighter to Adam. "I want Adam."

Ronan could see his friends staring, wondering, speculating. They all knew Ducky, knew how he was about strangers, and could see he was clearly very comfortable and happy to be nestled in the crook of Adam's neck. He was struck with an odd sense of pride.

"Well Adam probably wants to eat," Ronan reached over to tug on one of Ducky's curls.

"It's okay," Adam shrugged, patting Ducky's back gently. "I can multi-task."

Ronan raised his eyebrows at him questioningly and Adam nodded back. Ronan turned away in time to catch Noah and Henry sharing a knowing look. They were always doing that when they thought one or the both of them were being very astute and clever. Ronan narrowed his eyes at them before he sat down.

"Well," Gansey managed to hold himself back for an astounding fifteen minutes into the meal before he addressed Adam directly. "I guess I'll be the cliche one, then. Adam. Would you like to tell us about yourself?"

"Gansey," Ronan groaned. "Lay off."

"What?" Gansey looked around innocently. "We just want to get to know him, Ronan. I'm not trying to grill him." He looked back at Adam. "You don't feel grilled, do you?"

"Ah, no." Adam shook his head, but Ronan could see the way he was holding himself, ramrod straight, all his muscles pulled taut. He was nervous or uncomfortable or both. "I guess, well, there's not really much to tell. You already know my name. I'm twenty-two years old. I'm originally from Henrietta, Virginia."

The table erupted into startled shouts of: "Shut up!" "What?" "Ronan!" "Why didn't you tell us?"

Ronan tried to cover up his own shock with annoyance. He hadn't known, either.

Adam looked to Ronan, confused. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no," Gansey shook his head, "it's just that we all went to high school in Henrietta." He tilted his head owlishly at Adam. "Aglionby Academy."

"Oh," Adam blinked, absorbing a wave of shock and then recovering at a superhuman speed. "Right. I remember Ronan mentioning that. That's...pretty wild, I guess."

"Well I didn't go to Aglionby," Blue added. "Obviously. I went to Mountain View. We would have been in the same grade." Now she was examining Adam very intently. "What's your last name? Do you remember me? Blue Sargent?"

"Parrish," Adam answered, "And, no, sorry, I um...I didn't go to Mountain View."

"Oh," Blue deflated in disappointment. "Yeah, well, your name doesn't ring a bell, either."

"I can't believe we never saw you around anywhere," Noah cut in. "Or shit. Maybe we did. Maybe we, like, walked right by each other and never even noticed." He shook his head at Ronan. "Trippy."

"Way," Henry agreed.

Ronan didn't know what to make of it. It was kind of a weird coincidence, but then again, not really. DC wasn't _that_ far away from Henrietta. Lots of people moved to bigger cities after high school.

"I really don't understand why you never mentioned any of this," Gansey said to Ronan, eyeing him with grand suspicion. "Or why you—"

Ronan was done with this. "Can we change the subject, please?"

Gansey held his gaze meaningfully for a moment. "Alright, fine. Adam. What brought you to DC? What do you do here?"

"Well," Adam readjusted Ducky in his lap. "It's a little embarrassing."

Ronan looked sharply at Adam. He couldn't seriously be about to say what Ronan thought he was going to say. Ronan had a horrible nightmarish vision of Adam being a charming, long-game playing sociopath. Everything between them up until this moment had all been carefully calculated ruse in order to expose Ronan at this very moment. He'd been leaving his child alone with a horrible, dangerous person for months. He then shook himself free of this deranged mania and managed to tune back in just as Adam was informing everyone that he was currently in school.

"I go to Georgetown," he announced sheepishly.

"So do I," Gansey was practically frothing at the mouth with curious disbelief. "I don't see what there is to be ashamed about that. I've quite enjoyed my time there."

"Well, I'm only a freshman," Adam said, his voice a little tight around the words. "That's the embarrassing part."

"I had to take some time off after high school," he added stiltedly when no one responded. "Help out at home. My mother was sick and couldn't work for awhile."

"Oh," Gansey, along with the rest of the table, wilted sympathetically. "I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope she's well now?"

Adam nodded once, quick and strangely emotionless. "She's fine."

"Well," Gansey cleared his throat. "I took a gap year myself. And Noah and Blue break out into hives if they step foot on a college campus. So there's nothing to be embarrassed about in the slightest." He glanced at Ronan. "I hope _this one_ hasn't been giving you the impression we're a bunch of snobs."

Adam shook his head. "No, of course not."

"My mommy's sick too," Ducky piped up, his little mouth covered in sauce and sticky rice. "That's why I'm not allowed to go see her. Not til she's feeling better. Right, Daddy?"

Ronan sighed. His son sure knew how to quiet a room.

"That's right," he smiled down at him, plucking a napkin off the table and wiping off his face. "Messy boy."

Ducky squirmed away, giggly and happy and oblivious to the tightly wound energy he'd unwittingly created.

"So," Blue said, after Adam had adequately ooh'd and awe'd over Ducky's new telescope and the combat robots Henry had gotten him. "My turn to be cliche. How did you two meet?"

Adam and Ronan looked at each other from where they sat on the couch, both questioning and uncertain. Finally Adam painted an easy smile on his face and said to Ronan, "Do _you_ want to tell that story?"

Ronan had to bite back a growl. Adam was supposed to be the one coming up with the bullshit. That had been the deal. Finally, his brain landed on the most ridiculous thing he could think of, and he amiably set Adam up with the prompt. "I was having car trouble."

"Car trouble?" Blue raised her eyebrows.

Adam's jaw clenched and Ronan couldn't tell if he was holding in amusement or anger. It almost made him want to laugh. "Yeah," he confirmed, riding a wave of horrible confidence. "Tell them, Adam."

"I do some mechanic work on the side," Adam shrugged. "When I'm not busy with school or my other job." He shifted his body so he could reach into his back pocket, effectively smushing his thigh up against Ronan's. Ronan scowled down at their touching legs. Adam pulled a small white business card out of his pocket and handed it to Gansey.

"Oh!" Gansey's eyes widened. "Wow. Maybe you could take a look at The Pig—"

"Finish the story!" Noah called from the floor where he and Henry were sprawled out with Ducky. Gansey closed his mouth, chagrined.

"It's nothing fancy," Adam feigned shyness very well. "I just found him stalled on the side of the road a couple months back. He needed a jump and didn't have any cables. I usually always have some handy."

"And what?" Blue pressed for more. "Love at first sight? _Bleck_."

"I beg to differ," Noah threw in from below. "I love a good meet-cute. Don't you, Ducky?"

Ducky was too busy crashing his robots together and making animal noises to reply.

"But really," said Gansey, "What happened next? How did you go from Good Samaritan to…" he gestured to the two of them with a flick of his wrist, "this?"

"I asked him for his number," Ronan said.

"Why?" Blue wrinkled her nose.

"Because I thought he was fucking cute, Sargent. Is that allowed?"

"Daddy," Ducky looked up from his toys, quietly appalled. "Don't say bad words."

The room lit up into delighted laughter. Ronan crossed his arms. "Sorry, baby."

"Whatever," Blue sighed. "Just skip to the part where Ducky caught you guys making out."

"I wouldn't call it _making out_ ," Ronan said.

"I would," Adam grinned. Ronan glared at him. His friends made obnoxious oohing noises.

"Fine," Ronan relented. "I asked him to come over because I knew I couldn't leave Ducky alone and that was the best way for us to meet up. Ducky was asleep so I thought it would be fine." There was something devastatingly embarrassing about this being so close to the truth. The heat in his cheeks was all too real as he continued, "And yeah. You know the rest. Ducky woke up and it was a little dramatic for a few minutes but it turned out alright. Then I got called into the office for that stupid conference and I needed someone to watch Ducky so...I called Adam. And he's been around ever since. Boring story."

Ronan's discomfort was nearly choking him. He didn't like the way Adam was looking at him out of the corner of his eye, curious and intent. He didn't like the way his friends were smirking at him, either.

"I gotta go," Ducky announced, standing up suddenly.

"What's the rush? Did you leave the iron on?" Noah reached up to gently bop his nose.

Ronan threw a wadded up napkin at Noah's head. "He means to the bathroom. You've been to the bathroom here before, Ducky. Don't you remember where it is?"

Ducky shook his head adamantly.

Ronan sighed, standing. "Alright, come on."

"No," Ducky wriggled righteously where he stood. "Adam has to take me."

"No, he doesn't," Ronan said, gentle but with authority. "Daddy can take you."

Ducky started to whine and Adam stood up. "I don't mind taking him."

Ducky waddled over to Adam eagerly and Adam was hoisting him up into his arms and Ronan couldn't very well stake a claim now. He sighed again and gave Adam the directions. Adam gave everyone a tight, sheepish smile before exiting the room.

Ronan turned to Blue, who was looking at Gansey, who was looking at Henry, who was looking at Noah, who was looking at Blue. He watched his friends shift their gazes amongst each other, never breaking the identical serpentine smile that was sliding across all their faces.

Ronan sat back down with a grunt. "What?"

"Ducky's very attached to Adam," Gansey noted, his face gone neutrally blank.

Ronan shrugged. "Adam's been watching him a lot lately, he's comfortable around him."

"How often do you leave Ducky with Adam?" Blue wanted to know. Ronan wasn't sure he liked her tone.

"I don't know, once or twice a week, maybe."

"Wow," Blue turned away, taking a long sip of her wine.

Ronan cut his gaze across all his friends, who seemed to all be pointedly looking elsewhere.

" _What_?" Ronan asked again.

"It's just…" Blue tilted her head back to Ronan. "Do you really think that's such a good idea? Leaving Ducky with some strange man so often?"

Blue could be a little ridiculously put out by certain things, but when Ronan looked to Noah, to Henry, to _Gansey_ , they were all wearing the same quietly concerned expression.

"I mean," Ronan said, "Adam's not really _strange_. Hello, you've all just met him." When his friends didn't reply, realization sunk in Ronan's chest.

"You don't like him. That's what this is about. You guys don't like Adam."

"We...never said that." Gansey looked woefully uncomfortable. Ronan shook his head in disbelief.

"What?" He demanded. "What don't you like about him? He's been perfectly nice to all of you. He answered all your stupid questions. Is it because he didn't go to Aglionby? Or some other useless fucking private school? Is it because he actually has to work for money? Seriously? That's what bothers you? Jesus, you guys are unbelievable."

"I think," Blue said, "the bigger issue is whether he's good for Ducky. That's something you have to think about, Ronan."

"What the fuck?" Ronan threw up his hands. "Have you all even _been here_ the past two hours? You guys know how Ducky is around new people. How he freaks the fuck out if I leave his side for more than a second. And you know that's hard for me sometimes, right? I love Ducky. But it's hard. And it stressed me the fuck out, worrying about him not being okay when I'm not around. Worrying what I would do the next time I needed to be somewhere I couldn't take him. And now I don't have to worry about that anymore because all the time he spends with Adam has been helping him more and more with the separation problem. And Adam takes really fucking good care of him, by the way. I don't think you need a diploma from a bullshit fucking school to know how to take care of a kid. Most guys our age wouldn't even be _interested_ if there was a kid involved, let alone be as attentive and thoughtful as Adam is. So I don't fucking get it. There's nothing not to like about him. He's a good person and he's good with Ducky and that's really important to me and that's all that should matter."

Ronan's breath was coming out short and fast now. He swallowed and crossed his arms. The snakey smiles were all slowly creeping back onto the faces of his friends.

" _What_?" he asked for the fourth time.

Blue showed her teeth and winked. "Gotcha."

"That was almost too easy." Noah balked as he and Henry were miming casting with invisible fishing poles and furiously reeling in.

Ronan looked to Gansey, who was smiling in the most annoyingly tight-lipped way, like he was forcibly hampering his excitement.

He scoffed, his blood simmering. "Why was that necessary?"

Noah and Henry started to sing in unison, some inane pop song with Adam's name substituted into the lyrics.

"Shut up!" Ronan hissed. "You're all so fucking stupid."

"If you were a celebrity couple, what would your portmanteau be?" Henry mused aloud. "Rrr...Radam? No, horrible. Rodam? That's...undeniably worse."

"Adonan," Gansey threw out helpfully.

"Someone in this room is about to get punched," Ronan warned.

"Punched!" Noah exploded. "Punched! Punch! Pinch!"

Everyone stared at him.

"That's it!" Noah bounced where he sat. "Don't you get it? Adam's last name is Parrish. Ronan's last name is Lynch. Together," he reverently intertwined his fingers, "they are _Pynch_."

"Why do I only get one letter?" Adam asked, reappearing with Ducky in his arms. "That's hardly fair."

"Aesthetic trumps equality," Henry told him. "Parynch is too cumbersome on the tongue. And Larrish just sounds—"

"Garish?" Noah supplied. Henry snorted through his wine.

"Ignore them," Ronan said. "They're being fucking children."

"Daddy!" Ducky admonished. Ronan groaned. He was ready for this night to be over.

Not nearly soon enough, he was finally wrangling Ducky into his coat and passing around the obligatory hugs. He watched Gansey physically hold himself back from hugging Adam, opting instead for a lingering handshake and a doofy smile.

"I always wondered what it would be like," Gansey said quietly, just to Ronan, while they watched Adam finishing the buttoning up of Ducky's jacket. "When you found someone."

"Jesus," Ronan groaned, embarrassed. "Stop. I've known the guy for a few months."

"I've only known him for an evening," Gansey shrugged. "I can tell he's made of good stuff. We all like him."

"Don't get too attached," Ronan said. "Who fucking knows. We might break up tomorrow."

"You sounded much more certain earlier." Gansey scoffed lightly. "That was quite a speech."

"That's not—I was just—Nevermind." Ronan sighed. "It's just...not that big of a deal. So, don't make it one."

"Okay," Gansey said, but Ronan could tell when he was being pacified. He realized now how much he hadn't thought through the ramifications of tonight's charade being successful. Eventually he'd have to make up some story about why he and Adam were no longer together. And his friends would be disappointed. Hell, they'd probably blame him. Of course Ronan would be the one who fucked it up, let Mr. Right get away. Unless he fed them something damning and dramatic, but then they'd think badly of Adam, and that was almost as unbearable as them fawning over him. After all Adam had done for him, he hardly deserved a false slandering. Then again, maybe Adam didn't really care what Ronan or his friends thought of him. After all, this was all just a paycheck to him. His affections for Ducky might be genuine, but maybe that was where his emotional investment in all this ended. Ronan couldn't blame him for that.

He fixed Gansey with the hardest look he could muster before turning back to pry his son off his fake boyfriend.

 

*******

 

When Ducky was tucked safely inside the BMW in his booster seat, doors closed, Ronan finally felt like he could breathe out. "Thank you." Ronan shoved his hands in his pockets. "I know it was pretty crazy in there. I thought my friends could act like normal people for a night, but clearly I was wrong."

"They seem like good people," Adam shrugged. "I assume I did okay?"

Ronan scoffed. "Don't play dumb. You know you were great. They all wanna fuck you."

Adam laughed at that, a hearty genuine smiling rippling across his face, transforming it into something Ronan suddenly found hard to look at.

"Well, you can pass along my going rate."

"Ha, ha." Ronan rolled his eyes. "Speaking of—you figure out how much you want? For tonight, I mean."

Adam's expression turned pained. "It feels weird to take money for this, to be honest."

"Well it feels weird not to pay you," Ronan sputtered, surprised by his words. If he wasn't paying him, then what was this?

Adam groaned, his hand reaching up to drag across the back of his neck. "Just don't worry about it. You were in a tight spot and you needed my help. Besides," the smile returned, this time thin and antagonistic. "You thinking I'm cute is payment enough."

Ronan's heart stuttered in his chest. "Well, one of us had to fucking sell it."

Adam was undeterred by Ronan's venom. "I can't believe you think I'm cute."

Ronan gave him a harsh, dismissing once over. "I don't have time for this. I gotta get Ducky home and into bed. You still down for next week or what?"

"Of course," Adam knocked on the window, waving goodbye to Ducky when he got his attention. "Give Ducky an extra kiss goodnight from me. Oh. Actually, should we do that?"

Ronan was thrown by his abrupt change of subject. "What?"

"Don't look now," Adam stepped close to him, dropping his voice low. "But your friends are all spying on us from the big front window. I think they're expecting a grand finale."

Ronan flushed when he realized what Adam was suggesting. "Ducky can see us, too, idiot."

Adam stepped closer, still. "We'll fake it, then. Keep the theme of the night going." He placed his hand strategically on Ronan's cheek, blocking a good portion of their faces as he dipped his head close, tilted it inward.

"Now who's selling it?" He teased in a whisper, hot against Ronan's face. "Do something. Put your hands on my hips."

Ronan did as he was told, let his eyes fall briefly to Adam's dark lips, then back up to meet his gaze. "Your breath smells."

Adam laughed again, shaking his head and pulling away. "Goodnight, Ronan."

Ronan stepped back, nodded once in acknowledgment, and turned away in enough time to see his friends celebrating back inside the house.

This was the worst idea he'd ever had.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **disclaimer/slight trigger warning:** in this chapter there's a fair amount of adam having negative thoughts about himself re: his abuse and how this affects his ability to care for a child. i want it to be clear that i, the writer, do not hold these same opinions. i know adam is nothing like his parents and is capable of being a really great dad, but that i do feel like it's something that adam would realistically struggle with. but regardless of all that, i realize these kind of thoughts and situations can be triggering for survivors, so please be mindful of that content while reading this chapter.  <3 
> 
> and as always the biggest thank you and <3333 to everyone who's been reading and commenting on the story so far!

Pretending to be Ronan N. Lynch's boyfriend was surprisingly easy. It had been some weeks since he'd had that dinner with all of Ronan's friends and since then there'd been minimal to no effort required on his part. Once Ronan had snapped a picture of him without warning, standing wide eyed and slack-jawed in Ronan's kitchen as he'd been cutting the crust off of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich Ducky had asked for.

There had been a brief struggle but Ronan had already posted it to his Instagram by the time Adam had him straddled on the floor.

"My friends have been asking questions," Ronan had said, sighing underneath him.

"What kind of questions?"

"Wondering why I didn't bring you around the next time I was with them. They got all _silent exchanged looks_ on me. I think they thought we were fighting or something."

"So?" Adam asked, rocking back onto his ass, squashing Ronan's crotch in a way that was assumingly unpleasant, given the furious squawk that erupted from Ronan as he did so. "Why not just tell them we broke up?"

"I can't say shit like that in front of Ducky," Ronan groaned. "You're crushing my balls."

Adam smirked down at him, making no move to shift his weight. "So what _did_ you say?"

"I just told them you were busy and that you'd be at the next get-together."

"Oh, thanks for running that by me." Adam settled his weight down harder, earning a satisfyingly high-pitched yelp of protest from Ronan.

"Get off me, you sick freak."

"Stop telling your friends dumb shit, you dumbshit." Adam shot back. "You told me it was just going to be a one-time thing."

Ronan sighed. "I know."

"I just didn't want them to think we were fighting...because..." Ronan attempted an ineffectual shrug. "They'd just think that _I_ fucked it up somehow and it'd be this whole goddamn _thing_. I'll make another excuse for you when I see them again. But at least this picture will shut them up for the time being."

"An ugly picture of me making a sandwich?" Adam scoffed.

"They'll see that you're at my house, doing domestic things. They'll think everything's good. Plus," Ronan's lips twisted upward, inhumanly wretched. "I like the picture. It's cute."

"You're such a piece of shit." Adam hissed. "I'm not helping you clean up any more of your idiotic messes."

It was at this point Ducky had toddled into the room, demanding the whereabouts of his forgotten sandwich. When he saw his father lying on the floor with Adam perched on top of him, he shrieked and threw himself onto Ronan's chest.

"Daddy, we got you!"

"Yeah, yeah," Ronan sneered, letting his head fall back against the hard floor in defeat as Ducky and Adam cackled in unison. "You got me."

And then there was the time Ronan had insisted they need to be seen _out_ somewhere together and Adam had reluctantly tagged along to the grocery store. For all the thick and heavy dread that had culminated inside him all throughout the ride to the store, there was something strangely pleasing and calm and _nice_ about pushing Ducky around in the shopping cart. He was still small enough to fit in the child's seat. Adam couldn't resist leaning forward to press his nose into Ducky's unruly dark curls, to kiss his forehead and make him giggle. He turned to Ronan when he heard the obnoxious fake shutter sound of his phone's camera app.

Scowling, he asked, "What are you typing?"

Ronan held up a finger until he'd finished and then handed the phone to Adam. The photo itself was shockingly sweet, Adam bent over with his lips pressed to Ducky's face as the little boy was turning away toward the camera, his face a big, blurry open-mouthed smile. The harsh fluorescent lighting and brightly colored cereal aisle backdrop gave the image an overall feeling of _happy_ that was so shockingly unfamiliar his heart buoyed in his chest.

It sank when he saw what Ronan had captioned underneath it.

 _Shopping with my boys. Can't decide who's cuter._

Adam handed him the phone back, staring him directly in the eyes and emphasizing with as much venom as he could muster, " _Ew_."

Ronan had simply shrugged, disgustingly pleased with himself.

More weeks passed and Ronan made plans to excuse Adam out of another socialization event with his friends.

"Unless you actually want to come," Ronan joked with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

"Can't," Adam told him. "I've got a date tonight."

"A date?" Ronan sounded uncharacteristically startled. He blinked at Adam for a moment of confusion before pulling himself back into an expression of neutral disinterest. "Oh. You mean, like, a _date_?" He air quoted with a grand sneer.

"Yeah," Adam raised his eyebrows animatedly. "You know me. Just can't enough of that hot, hot stranger-sex. But what really gets me going is the all that dirty hooker money I make. From the filthy, nasty stranger-sex, that is."

Ronan's face twisted up in annoyance. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"Come on," Adam scoffed. "We both know you can't stand the fact that I make money through sex work."

Ronan threw out a befuddled hand. "No? I actually don't care at all? Did you forget how we fucking met?"

"Judgey hypocrites are textbook clients," Adam said. "Desperate enough to hire a stranger for paid sex, entitled and bigoted enough to look down on the person they're receiving the service from."

Ronan leveled his gaze. "I really don't think I fall into that category."

"Then why do you act so weird about it every time it's brought up?"

"I didn't realize I was," Ronan said. "Maybe you're just defensive because _you're_ the one who feels weird about it. Maybe you're projecting."

Adam's eyes narrowed into thin slits. "Maybe you're deflecting."

"Maybe we both took introductory psychology classes in high school," Ronan snorted with contempt. "Is there a point to this conversation?"

"No," Adam said, eventually. "I guess not."

 _Maybe you were right._ Adam admitted later through an impulsive and thoughtless text message, freshly showered and a few hundred dollars richer.

_Maybe I am defensive about it._

**what brought about this change of heart...**

_The 60 year old man I just fucked was a psychiatrist and when I broke down into tears he gave me a free therapy session right there on the spot, post-coitus._

**ur not funny**

_Dr. Smith said you'd say that._  

**blocking ur number**

_Alright, I take it all back. But only because you pay me just as much to babysit and watching Ducky is decidedly easier on my joints._

_Though about the same amount of cardio._

Adam was expecting a fiery retort, probably about deigning to use his son's name in the same sentence as his illicit sex-for-money acts. Ronan's actual reply caught him by surprise.

**why do u do it if you don't like it?**

Adam thought for a moment about how to answer this question and eventually landed on the truth.

_I don't dislike it. It's a lot of money for the flexibility in working hours it comes with. For my situation, going to school and studying and doing schoolwork and having a lot of shit to pay for, it's kind of a dream job._

**how did you get into it in the first place?**

**just curious**

_Guy from my orientation group told me about it. He told me when he was doing it to pay his way through school he made 18,000 dollars a month._

**Jesus…..**

**is that what you make?!**

_Obviously not. That guy was a once in a lifetime story... fucking heads of state and their wives, too, probably. Most of that payment is hush money._

**such a dramatic lifestyle**

_Not really. Not for me._

_Well, there was this one time that was super fucked up._

_Craziest thing that ever happened to me on the job._

**fuck, what was it?**

_Well...awhile back I showed up at a client's house and this dude is extremely creepy. All twitchy and frantic and touchy. Talking strange, acting strange. I figure he's just not used to this sort of thing so I try to be nice, polite, encouraging. You know. Plus I could tell that he was super hard up for it, clearly hadn't been laid in forever. So I felt pretty bad for him...and I was planning on really giving it to him good, you know, show the poor loser a really good time._

… **...so what happened?**

_His son interrupted us and now I babysit for him._

_Sad but true._

**i rly am blocking ur number now**

_I was just kidding._

_About the creepy part._

_I really was gonna fuck your brains out. I was feeling very generous that night._

**how do u even know i wanted u to fuck me?**

**maybe i wanted to fuck you**

_LMAO_

_K._

**WTF?**

_I am a professional, you know._

_It's my job to know these things._

**maybe ur bad at ur job**

_No complaints so far._

_I know I'm not wrong. ;)_

_Don't ignore me._

_Just admit it._

_You'll feel better._

_RONAN!_

**ctfd im putting ducky 2 bed**

_Kiss him goodnight for me._

**he was pouting all night bc u werent there**

**everyone was actually......**

_Kind of sad I missed it, tbh._

_Your friends are nice._

_Being your fake boyfriend isn't so bad._

**it's alright**

**kind of wish you weren't so ugly but w/e**

_I feel much the same way about you, but beggars can't be choosers and all that._

**why are you defensive, then?**

Adam had gotten so into his teasing tug of war with Ronan he'd nearly forgotten the reason for contacting him in the first place.

 _I don't know_ , Adam finally replied.

_I guess I'm just used to be judged and looked down on and I'm always ready to defend my position in life and my choices to anyone that challenges them._

**my heart's bleeding for you parrish**

_I feel like you're the type of person who uses sarcasm to cover up their true feelings._

**did the old shrink u just fucked impart that nugget of wisdom on u**

_You're just proving my point._

_Ronan N. Lynch._

_What's the N stand for?_

**None Of Your Goddamn Business**

 

* * *

 

For someone who never thought he'd be able to relax while merely occupying the same space as a small child, watching Ducky had become almost obnoxiously easy for Adam. He knew this had little to do with any inherent child rearing skills on his part and much to do with the fact that Ducky was an angel. As long as he had juice and food and something to play with or watch, he was happy as a clam. He never gave Adam the slightest bit of trouble. Once Adam's anxiety over the unfamiliarity of the act itself had waned, babysitting Ducky was something he felt he could do with his eyes closed.

This was why he'd made the decision to bring his laptop to the house. He knew he could sit Ducky in front of the television and spend the hours working on a paper he needed to finish before the day was over.

But children, as Adam had yet to learn, were not fine-tuned machines. They adopted routines and broke them without warning. They had good days and bad days and unpredictable moods, just like adults did. And it just so happened that today wasn't a good one. Adam had not prepared for this. Ducky was disagreeable from the start, whining at Adam's suggestions until he finally relented that playing with legos was acceptable, but only if Adam was playing with him.

"You get started," Adam told him distractedly as he opened up his word processor. "I'll come play in a little bit."

Adam thought that Ducky would get wrapped up in playing on his own once he'd started and would forget about Adam's empty promise. This was unfortunately not the case. Ducky shouted up at Adam every ten minutes and became increasingly more agitated every time Adam attempted to placate him with a gentle but firm, "Not yet, Ducky. I'm in the middle of something."

Eventually Ducky appeared at his side, tugging lightly on Adam's sleeve. "Come play."

Adam opened his mouth to give him another inaccurate estimated time of arrival but then Ducky followed up with, "I'm hungry." And not even an Adam who had a paper due by 5 PM was an Adam who could deny a child food.

"What do you want?"

Ducky shrugged, fiddling with the lid on his juice cup. "I don't know."

He turned to the little boy with a sigh. "Come on, Ducky. Just tell me so I can make it."

Ducky whined at all of Adam's suggestions, and Adam was surprised to find his patience for this wearing thin. He didn't understand why Ducky was acting this way and why he couldn't just _stop_. Be reasonable.

Finally, finally, he got a hurried nod from Ducky at the prospect of a frozen pizza and Adam got up to make it.

He hadn't even gotten the pizza fully out of its packaging when he heard a loud gasp and a shrill, panicked, "Adam!" from the living room.

He sprinted back with his heart in his throat, his brain supplying him with horrifyingly bloody images, preemptively psyching himself up for the 911 call he was going to have to make.

What he found instead was Ducky, unharmed and completely the same as he'd left him, except for one thing.

His hands were holding up the lid of his juice cup.

Just the lid.

"Ducky," Adam started toward him.

"I didn't mean to!" Ducky squeaked out. "I didn't mean to, I didn't…"

Adam's eyes flicked from Ducky to where his computer was sitting on the table in front of the couch.

There was the missing juice cup, tipped over onto the table, its contents effectively flooding his keyboard.

"Shit!" Adam cursed without thinking, flying to lift up the computer and shut it off. He flipped it upside down, shaking a torrential downpour of purple liquid onto the white carpet. He'd clean that up later. He had to deal with his computer right now. He groaned in frustration and all but tossed the computer on the floor. It was most likely fucked, anyway.

He turned sharply to the little boy in front of him, picking him up and placing him on the couch.

"Ducky," he said. "Sit here and do not move until I get back. Do you understand me?"

Ducky nodded, his hands still tightly gripping the lid of the cup. He pried the lid from Ducky's sticky little fingers, another thing he'd have to clean. That was when Ducky started to cry.

"I'll be right back," Adam said, unable to let this affect him. "Just stay put. I mean it, Ducky. Don't move."

It wasn't until he'd cleaned out all the leftover sticky residue in his keyboard and place it open and upside down on the kitchen table to dry out that his hands started to shake. Now he had to go back into the living room and deal with Ducky. He was still crying, hadn't let up the whole time Adam was cleaning out his computer, but when Adam returned to the living room, he was surprised to find that at least Ducky hadn't moved from the spot Adam had placed him in.

"Ducky, what happened? How'd you spill the juice?"

"I don't know," he sniffed, his porcelain cheeks burning red and streaked with tears.

Adam sighed heavily. "How did the lid come off of your cup? Did you take it off?"

Ducky didn't have an answer for this, only more sniffles.

"Did you do it on purpose, Ducky?"

"No!" This short and immediate answer only confirmed the truth of the opposite. Adam closed his eyes and exhaled a long, rattling breath.

"Here," he knelt in front of him, holding out the wet paper towel he planned to wipe Ducky's hands with. "Let me see."

"No!" Ducky cried.

"I need to clean your hands off, Ducky. There's juice all over them."

"I want my daddy," Ducky sobbed, wrenching away from Adam.

"He'll be back soon," Adam said. Ducky wasn't consoled by this. Adam didn't know what else he could say. In all his time watching Ducky, he'd never been like this. Adam didn't know how to handle a kid when they were like this.

"I want him back now!" Ducky wailed, curling up into a ball on the couch. Adam dropped the paper towel, which wasn't getting him anywhere, and pulled out his phone to text Ronan.

He paused to see that there was a text from Ronan that he'd missed in the recent chaos.

**omw home in abt 20 mins**

**gansey and blue are coming over have an excuse ready if you don't want to stick around**

Adam cursed under his breath. This was all cosmic payback for procrastinating on his assignment, he was certain of it.

_Any way you can speed up that process? And idk about that. Things are a little intense here right now._

**what do u mean?**

**what's going on??**

_Ducky's just upset._

_There was an incident with some juice._

**dear god**

_He's crying for you. I can't calm him down._

_I don't really know what to do._

**ill be there as soon as i can.**

"Your daddy's on his way home," Adam said to Ducky, who was still in hysterics. "He'll be here really soon, okay?"

"Ducky," Adam reached forward to put a gentle hand in his hair, but Ducky rolled back from him, the action only making him cry harder.

Adam felt an alarmingly unstable chemical reaction bubbling in his chest. His paper was going to be late. This professor didn't accept late work. His computer was probably broken. He didn't know if he could get it fixed or if he'd have to buy a new one. If the harddrive was compromised, he was fucked. He didn't have a backup. And now Ducky was throwing this nonsensical fit. He didn't think he could stand another second of this. Not without...without...something toxic erupting inside of him. Ronan couldn't get here fast enough.

When he did, Ducky rocketed to him, burying his face in Ronan's shoulder as soon as he was up in his arms. Ronan murmured something indiscernible and worked his fingers into his son's hair, stroking his curls in a soothing gesture.

To Adam, he said, "What happened?"

"I was trying to make some food when Ducky spilled juice on my computer. I told him to stay put while I cleaned everything up, but he lost it."

"Whoa," Ronan's hand stilled in Ducky's hair. "He did what? Like, on accident?"

Adam shrugged. "I think it might have been a poorly thought out revenge plot."

Ronan raised his eyebrows in question and Adam attempted to summarize the events that had let up to Ducky's current emotional state.

" _Ducky_ ," Ronan said his name somehow both lovingly and admonishingly. "That's not good, baby. Did you say sorry?"

"I didn't mean to!" Ducky insisted, faithful to his side of the story. Adam just shrugged again. He wasn't about to accuse Ducky of lying in front of his own father.

"Even when accidents happen, sometimes you still have to say sorry," Ronan told him, brushing away his little boy's tears. "Tell Adam you're sorry."

"No," Ducky turned his head away. "I don't like Adam anymore."

Adam's heart squelched painfully in his chest. Adam knew Ducky wasn't very happy with him at the moment—the feeling was mutual—but the words were a shock to hear.

"Hey," Ronan pulled back from his son, forcing him to look into his eyes. "Daniel Owen Lynch. You don't say things like that."

Ducky's face crumpled and the waterworks started up again, this time even more shrill and hysterical than before.

"Okay," Ronan tucked him back into the crook of his neck. "I think somebody needs a nap."

Adam's hands were shaking again by the time Ronan returned.

"Is Ducky alright?"

"You're mean and he doesn't want to play with you ever again," Ronan rolled his eyes. "I can't believe I missed all this action."

Adam's breath lodged in his throat. _Mean?_ The events of the day replayed through his mind, this time through Ducky's child-sized perspective. Adam ignoring him when he wanted to play. Adam snapping at him when he couldn't decide what he wanted to eat. Adam throwing his computer on the ground in front of him. Adam picking him up and ordering him not to move.

The scene was suddenly all too familiar in the most sickening way. Adam saw his father's bitter disinterest, throwing a plate against a wall, grabbing him by his wrists and shaking him, screaming at him to shut up, to listen, to go to his room, to stop being so stupid, to get out of his way, _to look at me while I'm talking you, do you understand me?_

As frustrated as Adam had been, the thought of _hurting_ Ducky had not crossed the deepest recesses of his mind, not once. But he'd be lying if he said the little boy's behavior hadn't made him angry. And that alone was enough to make him sick. Of course Ducky didn't care about Adam's assignment, his computer, his stress levels, his financial burdens. He was a child. He just wanted Adam to pay attention to him. That was what Adam was being paid to do here. He'd let himself get too caught up in the game of it. This was a job he was supposed to be doing. And this was the second time he'd fucked it up. Would he take his computer with him to the garage he used to work at? Or to a client's home? Of course not. This was no different.

And Adam was no different from his father. He was just like him, just fucking like him.

"Oh my God," Ronan's voice was weary. "Not you too."

Adam shoved the heels of his hands into his eyes, sniffing back and swallowing down.

"Sorry," he gasped out, desperately trying to regulate his breathing. "Sorry."

He felt his hands being pulled away from his face, Ronan's long fingers encircling his wrists. He blinked his eyes open to a blurry Ronan fixing him with a distorted, watery look. "Do I need to put you down for a nap as well?"

Adam was too upset to scoff at Ronan's sarcasm. "He's right. I was being mean."

"What?" Ronan let go of Adam's wrists, put his hands on his hips. "You yell at him or something?"

Adam shook his head. He hadn't raised his voice at Ducky but that wasn't the point. "I think I scared him. I kinda threw my computer on the floor."

Ronan raised his eyebrows at that.

Hot white shame burned in Adam's throat. "I was angry."

"You—" Ronan was cut off by the sound of the front door opening and voices filling the entryway of his home.

"Ronan?" A deep feminine voice called out. "It's us. Why haven't you been answering our texts?"

Ronan made a frustrated gurgling noise. "Look alive, Parrish." He reached up to cup Adam's face, dragging his thumbs under his eyes, wiping the drying tear tracks away. Adam went still, shocked by the gentleness of the gesture.

"Ah, here they a—ah. Oh."

Adam shook himself free of Ronan's grasp, turning to face a startled looking Gansey.

His eyes darted back and forth between Ronan and Adam. "Is...everything alright?"

"What's going on?" Blue joined him a moment later, lips pursed in confusion.

"Adam just got a crash course in Temper Tantrums 101," Ronan said. "Ducky was throwing a fit and Adam had to discipline him and now he's having an emotional breakdown over it because he's a fucking softie."

Blue and Gansey visibly relaxed, chuckling and cooing sympathetic noises.

"Gansey's not good with discipline, either." Blue sighed. "The first time we had to put Ducky in time out I thought he was going to give himself a hernia."

Gansey made a face, though spoke no contradictory words to the claim.

"That's not—" Adam didn't know if Ronan was skewing the reality of the situation as to not upset his friends or if that was his honest interpretation of it. "—why I was upset," he finished lamely. "I...he...he said…"

"Jesus," Ronan scoffed. "Adam, he's four. You should hear the shit he says to _me_ when he wants to watch _Barbie Life In The Dreamhouse_ and I tell him it's bed time. That kind of rage could summon a demon."

"But it was my fault," Adam insisted. He didn't know why he was standing here saying this, in front of Ronan's friends, no less. Perhaps a form of self-flagellation. "If I'd been focused on him and not my stupid paper he wouldn't have gotten upset in the first place."

With a sigh, he retold the story to Gansey and Blue, sparing no details to make himself look more favorable. Astonishingly, Gansey and Blue seemed much more concerned about the state of Adam's computer than whether or not he was a potentially violent monster.

"It's fine," Adam waved them off. "If it's unusable after it dries out then I'll deal with it."

"Wait til we tell Henry his protégé was willfully destroying electronics," Blue smirked. "It'll break his heart."

"Where _is_ Henry?" Ronan asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Blue crossed her arms. "Bogarting Noah."

"Oh?" Ronan sounded surprised. "Trouble in Poly Paradise?"

"No, no." Gansey shot Blue a stern look. "They just wanted a day to themselves. Blue's only joking."

Adam didn't really have the emotional wherewithal to process the confusing dynamics of Ronan's friends' relationships with each other. He checked his watch, frowning.

"Have somewhere to be?" He looked up to see Blue eyeballing him curiously.

"No," Adam shook his head solemnly. "It's just...my paper…I'm not going to make the deadline."

Gansey winced at him. "What class is it for?"

"Ancient and Medieval History," Adam answered.

"Oh!" Gansey exclaimed, excited. "Professor Malory?"

Adam nodded again. "He doesn't accept late assignments."

"Roger Malory is an old friend," Gansey said. "I could speak to him for you and I'm sure he'd give you an extension."

Adam shook his head. "But he doesn't give extensions."

"Well, no, not to anyone," Gansey shrugged. "But he'd do just about anything for _me_. We owe each other a lifetime of favors."

"You're taking Ancient and Medieval History?" Ronan looked at him like he'd just swallowed spoiled milk. "You didn't tell me you were a fucking nerd."

"Ronan's prized possession is a beat-up copy of _The Aeneid_ that he used to carry with him everywhere," Gansey snorted. "He cried for hours after finishing _The Song of Achilles._ This anti-literary punk persona he puts forth is a complete and utter sham."

Ronan and Gansey began to bicker animatedly back and forth and Adam exchanged a weathered look with Blue. He took the opportunity to fetch his laptop and the rest of his things.

"Are you leaving?" Gansey paused mid-argument to blink at Adam.

"Yeah," Adam gave a sheepish sigh. "I really have to get going."

"But we just got here." Blue actually pouted at him. It did have a sort of devastating effect to it. No wonder she had three boyfriends.

"I assume Ducky's not taking visitors at the moment?" Gansey directed at Ronan.

"He's asleep," Ronan said. "But if you guys want to stick around I don't think he'll be out for long. No guarantees about the mood he'll be in when he wakes up, though."

"Well, the three of us can keep each other occupied in the meantime," said Gansey with a smile that was used to bending others to its will.

"I wouldn't want to make Ducky upset when he wakes up," Adam said. "I'm not exactly his favorite person right now."

Blue laughed at that. "You really _don't_ know how four year olds work, do you?"

Gansey tried to appeal to him and Adam made more excuses and Ronan rolled his eyes but managed to get Adam away from his disappointed friends and out the door without things becoming any more uncomfortable.

Ronan made a grabby gesture with his hand. "Phone."

Adam handed it to him in a kind of daze, exhausted from the unexpected onslaught of emotion the day had wrought upon him. He watched silently as Ronan typed into his phone and slid his credit card through the attached slot.

Finally, he said, "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

Ronan's head snapped up. He pocketed his credit card and handed Adam his phone.

"Do what?"

Adam shook his head. "Any of this. Lying to your friends. Just—all of it."

Ronan stared at him. "So you don't want to watch Ducky anymore?"

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose, fatigue and anxiety warring for dominance. "I don't know if I should."

"Maybe not," Ronan said, "If one mild fit is too much for you to handle."

"I told you I wasn't good with kids!" Adam exploded, wincing at the volume of his own voice. He took a breath and lowered it. "And I'm not. I'm really not. The only reason this whole thing has worked so far is because Ducky's been so easy, easier than most kids, but I'm just not...I'm not cut out for this sort of thing."

"Okay," said Ronan.

"Okay?" Adam repeated, incredulous. "That's it?"

"I'm not going to stand here and beg you," Ronan shrugged, his tone clipped and neutral. "If you don't want to be around him, then I don't want you around him."

Adam felt his chest tighten, his throat squeeze. He wished there was a way for Ronan to understand how hard this was for him. It wasn't that he didn't care about Ducky. It wasn't that he wasn't a good kid. It was just that Adam couldn't be around kids, especially when what they needed was someone patient and kind and gentle. Someone who had grown up with love and affection and knew how to give it to someone else, even when it was hard. Adam didn't know the first thing about any of that. He couldn't trust himself. But Ronan needed to get back to his friends, to his son, and Adam didn't have the time nor the energy to present him with some useless sob story that in the end was only another excuse for his incompetence.

With a hard swallow and pained silent nod, Adam walked away.

 

* * *

 

 

_Mr. Parrish,_

_Just got off the phone with my old friend, Gansey. He tells me you've had your hands full today with a little one that resulted in a broken computer. A full course load while holding down a job and taking care of a child on top of it is quite an ambitious feat. I'm happy to extend the deadline of your assignment, and all future assignments if that eases your burden. Feel free to hand them in as soon as you are able. This will, of course, not affect your grade in the slightest. It's nice to know I have a friend of Gansey's in my class. Send him my best._

_Regards,_

_Dr. Roger Malory_

 

A hurricane of emotions swirled in Adam's chest. Most notably, confusion.

The offer Gansey had made to him earlier about speaking with the professor he was acquainted with was so insignificant in the way it had been given, Adam had registered it as nothing more than a polite social nicety. The kind of grand gesture you expected another person to turn down. It was only spoken aloud as to make the speaker seem sympathetic and thoughtful. Both parties involved knew it wasn't something that was in any way expected to be acted upon.

And even in the event that Gansey's charitable disposition was not a farce, he hardly expected a near-stranger to go out of his way to help him after what had happened between himself and Ronan just before he'd left. He didn't know what Ronan planned to tell his friends after he went back inside, only that it couldn't possibly be anything close to the realm of good. Adam had neglected and traumatized his son and then up and quit his job as Ducky's babysitter without any notice.

So the email was a layered shock. What did it mean? Had Ronan lied to his friends? Or told them anything at all to make them question the status of he and Adam's "relationship"? He was oddly fixated on the fake boyfriend subterfuge. He'd never admit it aloud, but Adam could tell that Ronan liked the charade. For all his hang ups about lies and dishonesty, something about pretending to be in a happy, functioning romantic relationship that his friends approved of brought him a great deal of pleasure.

Right underneath the confusion was a stinging ache of embarrassment. Adam was never one to play the _I've-Got-So-Much-On-My-Plate_ card and the fact that someone else had played it on his behalf was immensely unsettling. What had Gansey said to this guy? From Adam's experiences with Professor Malory, he'd found him to be a particularly no-nonsense sort of man. He didn't strike Adam as very sympathetic to the plights his students got themselves into in their private lives. Gansey certainly hadn't been exaggerating his closeness to the old man. The tone of the email was light and friendly, like he was delighted to be tossing aside all his strict teaching policies to do as his "old friend Gansey" had asked of him. What _had_ Gansey asked of him, exactly? What had he told him? He wasn't really "taking care of a child" as Professor Malory seemed to think. Sure, he watched Ducky on a fairly regular basis but it was only ever for a few hours at a time. It was parody enough that Ronan was paying Adam to sit with his kid while he watched television and played with toys. He hardly needed to be awarded with any leniency or special treatment for it at school.

He was grateful to have the opportunity to finish the current assignment in question, but all future assignments? He didn't want to offend Gansey and certainly not his professor, but he didn't really know how to continue from this point. Should he accept the deal Professor Malory was striking with him? Just turn his assignments in whenever he pleased? It made him feel like a star athlete in a cheesy movie.

It wasn't like he was signing any sort of contract. He could finish his paper by the end of the week and not make a habit out of procrastinating in this class again. The class wasn't really making or breaking his academic career but Adam had been working toward college for so long, he wanted to do well in all aspects of it. He wanted his GPA to be perfect.

With a resigned sigh, he eyed his still-drying laptop, which he was too frightened to even try to turn on until it had been a full 24 hours. He could survive off the tiny screen of his IPhone for now. He robotically typed in his account information, reluctantly ready to estimate how much he could afford to drain of his existing balance to spend on fixing it.

This had to be some kind of mistake. Dread solidified in his chest. Unless Adam had just inherited a small fortune from a rich, dead relative he'd had no previous knowledge of, Adam was going to have to begin an extremely awkward conversation.

_Hey, so, I'm sorry to bother you but - I think there was a mistake with the transaction you made today when you put money into my account._

Adam read over the text several times before deciding to hit send. The more time he wasted not telling Ronan what had happened, the more it made him look like he'd considered keeping money that wasn't meant to be his. The thought of anyone—but especially Ronan—thinking something like that about him was far, far worse than having to brave any uncomfortable interaction.

Ronan's responses were usually either shockingly immediate or appallingly belated. Adam put his phone on vibrate and placed it face down on his bed, close to his head. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. He tried not to fixate on everything that had gone wrong today, how sick inside he still felt every time he pictured Ducky's big brown eyes filled with tears, Ronan's cold, unforgiving stare before he walked away.

When the soft buzz finally sounded, Adam felt it like a bee sting. He opened his eyes with a sigh and rolled over.

**what do u mean? didn't go thru?**

_Uh, no, like...too much went through. I think you might have slipped and typed an extra zero._

**how much does it say i put in?**

_$2,000 :/_

**no that's right**

_???_

_No, it's not._

**for ur computer**

**if you need to get it fixed or replaced or whatever**

_That's not really your concern, though, is it?_

**if it's broken, then it's ducky's fault**

**and ducky is my child which makes me responsible for him**

**so it only makes sense for me to pay for the damages**

Adam still didn't understand how a father as devoted and loving as Ronan was could look at the situation from such a standpoint. Didn't he blame Adam for getting Ducky that upset in the first place? It was his fault, he was the adult, Ducky was just a child.

_I shouldn't have been fucking around on my computer when I was supposed to be watching Ducky. It was stupid and irresponsible. It's my fault more than anyone else's._

**i work on stuff in front of ducky all the time. you don't have to be hovering over him every** **second u know. not ur fault he was being extra clingy today. idk why ur so weird about this.**

_I shouldn't have gotten that angry in front of him._

_I obviously upset him._

**he was just pissed off that you weren't paying attention to him when he wanted you to. as soon as he woke up he was crying for you and cursing my name.**

**like, welcome to having a four year old.**

**or not, since u hate kids so much**

**sry i forgot**

_I don't hate kids._

_I'm just not good with them._

Or for them.

_I'm not comfortable around them._

**ur good with ducky. you've been good /for/ ducky. disappearing on him is pretty fucking shitty, though. so there's that.**

_Hey, I never asked for this. You're the one who roped me into this whole thing._

**don't remember holding a gun to ur head**

**u could have said no.... to watching ducky.... to coming to meet my friends. to any of it.**

_It was way more complicated than that and you know it. You put me on the spot. I felt obligated to help you out._

**that's ur own problem. i never forced u to do anything.**

_That's not what I meant._

_Nevermind._

_It doesn't matter._

_Is Ducky okay? I hope visiting with Blue and Gansey made him feel better._

Ronan didn't answer immediately, which made Adam think he had decided he was done with the conversation. But nearly a full ten minutes later, a reply popped up.

**do you care about him or not?**

**be honest.**

_Of course I care about him._

How could he even begin to explain this?

_I just have no experience with this. I'm an only child. I didn't grow up around little cousins or nieces or nephews or anything. Kids are a totally foreign concept to me. I never ever thought I'd be in a situation where I was left alone with a kid, much less responsible for one for long periods of time. It's scary. And it's hard. And I sure as fuck don't know the first thing about what to do when a kid is misbehaving. I felt like shit for the way I acted. I still do._

_It has nothing to do with Ducky…it's not his fault...I'm just not good at this._

**why did you agree to it then?**

**genuinely asking...**

_I guess part of me I wanted to believe I could prove myself wrong._

_And Ducky was just so sweet...and you seemed like you really needed help._

_I don't fucking know. I wasn't thinking straight, clearly._

**he wants to talk to you**

_Who?_

**Ducky**

**can we call you?**

Adam sighed. He longed for the rational part of him to take hold, to tell Ronan no. Tell him that he was sorry, but this was really for the best. Tell him he hoped he'd find a good babysitter for Ducky soon. Assure him that he'd refund his money as soon as possible and Ronan could forget all about him.

But whatever part of Adam it was that cared for Ducky above all else, however small it might have been, was at that moment fatally overpowering to any rational thought.

Ducky wanted to talk to him.

 _Yeah,_ he texted back in a daze _. sure._

Barely a moment later, Adam's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"I'm sorry I broke your computer," Ducky's small voice was emphatic and mournful in his ear.

"It's okay, baby." Adam answered, his voice automatically going soft and affectionate. "It was just an accident."

"No," Ducky's voice crackled. "I did it on purpose."

Even though Adam had assumed and believed that was the case, hearing Ducky admit his guilt was a little startling. Mainly because all at once Adam realized that it didn't matter. Not to him. Whether it had been an accident or not, Ducky was just a little kid. He didn't understand the consequences of that sort of thing. He just felt hurt and acted out.

Adam tried to recall his annoyance with Ducky's behavior, his frustration, his anger. It all felt so far away now.

But—

It had been there. It had been raw and intense and nearly all encompassing and real and _right there_. Boiling at the surface, ready to spill over.

But—

Then it had gone away. Without Adam doing something monstrous. Without the thought even crossing his mind.

 _You didn't want to hit a little kid_ , Adam mused to himself, bitter and shamed. _Give yourself a fucking medal._

To Ducky, he said, "I forgive you." He wanted to tell him so many things. Explain himself and his regrettable actions fully and in great detail. _You know you're safe with me, don't you? You know I'd never, ever hurt you? I'm not like my father and I never will be._ But what good would that do? He was beginning to understand what Ronan meant every time he argued that he couldn't say certain things to or in front of Ducky. The words would just be confusing and meaningless to his little ears. Instead, he took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry, too."

"Will you come over again soon?" Ducky wanted to know. "I miss you."

Adam sighed. Another thing Ronan had been right about. Even harder than that for Adam to admit was that this was perhaps the bigger driving force behind Adam's decision to break ties with the Lynch family and friends. Adam wasn't one to stay in places where he wasn't wanted.

Adam recalled that first day he'd spent those hours alone with Ducky, how sweet and nice and filled up inside the time had left him. He remembered Ducky asking Ronan if Adam could come back. He remembered Ronan handing off the question to him, smug and suspicious.

He'd told himself he had just wanted to wipe the knowing smirk off Ronan N. Lynch's dangerously angular face, though he'd known it was more than that. He'd wanted to see Ducky again.

"Ask _Daddy_ if I can," Adam said, forcing his tone out gravely serious.

"Daddy," Ducky's voice trailed away from the speaker. "Can Adam come over again soon?"

Adam couldn't help but chuckle at the righteous, indignant garbled noise from Ronan that followed.

"Daddy says you can come back if you want to," Ducky repeated, breathy and loud in his ear.

"Of course I want to," Adam told Ducky, his voice soft and full of emotion. "I...I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay," said Ducky, "I gotta go to sleep now."

"Goodnight, Ducky."

"Ni-night, Adam," Ducky slurred out happily. "I love you."

Adam's breath caught in his throat. He marveled silently at how easy it was for a child like Ducky, who was very used to being loved and small in his understanding of it, to simply decide that he loved Adam and proceed to tell him as much. Adam sank into his bed, unfamiliar warmth spreading out from some deep, unaccessed reservoir inside him. Even though Ducky was just a kid he babysat for, who probably told his stuffed animals that he loved them too, it was still an honest and genuine declaration. One that Adam had never heard before.

Maybe the decision _was_ that simple, after all. Maybe it had nothing to do with age or understanding. It didn't take Adam very long to decide that if he was going to give those words away to anyone, for the first time, it was going to be this little boy.

"I love you, too, Ducky."

 

* * *

 

 It wasn't often that Adam saw Ronan N. Lynch rendered speechless.

"What?" Adam asked, still in the process of rubbing sleep from his eye.

"I've never seen you in anything less than business casual, Parrish." A sideways grin adorned his flushed face. He gestured to Adam's ratty old Coca-Cola t shirt and worn-thin sweatpants. "You pick this get up out of a dumpster on your way over?"

"It's fucking three in the morning." Adam scoffed. "What do you sleep in?"

"Nothing," Ronan sneered haughtily.

Adam rolled his eyes and sighed. "Remember what I said about using sarcasm as a defense mechanism?"

Ronan was hardly in a joking mood on the phone, earlier. Apparently, Ducky had woken him up by way of climbing into his bed and vomiting an impressive amount for such a tiny body. Ronan needed to go to the store and pick up some things to soothe Ducky's stomach before Ronan could take him to the doctor in the morning.

"I know it's a lot to ask," Ronan had told Adam, his voice thick and sincere, "I just don't want to have to get him out. If you could just come over and sit with him while I run to the store…"

Adam had been half asleep when he agreed to the task. The only words he'd really fully registered were _Ducky, sick, emergency_ and that had been enough to roll him out of bed. Adam had only been over to watch Ducky a couple times since _the incident_ and the lingering threat of disaster still loomed over him, a dark cloud of imminence in his chest at all times, something bad was bound to happen again sooner or later. And a tummy-sick Ducky was no doubt an unhappy Ducky. All of Adam's doubts about his ability to do this came rushing back to the surface.

"I put him on the couch," Ronan murmured as he walked Adam into the living room. "He threw up in his bed before he got to mine. You can turn on the TV if he wakes up, but I doubt he will. I won't be gone long."

Adam settled himself on the floor in front of the couch and watched as Ronan leaned down to drag his knuckles ever so softly against Ducky's forehead. The little boy didn't stir.

It wasn't until after Ronan left that Adam realized they hadn't discussed anything about payment. Not that that mattered, not for _this_ , not really. It was just the first time Ronan had asked something of him without offering to pay him. He didn't know what that meant...or if it meant anything at all.

The minutes stretched by and Adam stared blankly at his phone, the red bubbled **1** at the corner of his phone app glaring menacingly back at him.

He clicked it. The message was 25 seconds long. He hated that he wondered what it said.

 _Just delete it_ , he urged himself. _You don't owe them anything._

 _I'm not going to give them anything_ , he argued back. _I just want to know what it says._

Twenty-two years and he'd finally learned to stop hoping. No matter what he did with himself, his life, they weren't ever going to be proud of him. No matter what happened to him, they weren't going to care. The last time they'd called it was to ask for money. Adam had stupidly given it to them. He'd promised himself he wouldn't make that mistake twice.

And yet—As hard as he'd worked to get away from them and he was still thrown into existential despair over a fucking voicemail. He might as well be back in that trailer park if they were still controlling him like this.

Adam's thumb hovered over the play button. A loud cough sounded to the side of him. He was sitting with his good ear facing Ducky. In the event that Ducky woke up needing to vomit again, Adam would need to be quick with the bucket Ronan had left out.

Ducky blinked his eyes slowly, moaning and whimpering as he re-entered consciousness.

 _Please don't throw up,_  Adam silently begged. _Please don't throw up._

"Hey there," Adam said softly, reaching out to brush Ducky's hair off his sweat-damp forehead. He was shocked to find how alarmingly _hot_ his skin was. Poor baby.

Ducky wasn't consoled by Adam's gentle attentions. He balled his hands into fists and covered his face as he cried.

"Hey, hey," Adam repeated. "It's alright."

"I don't feel good," he blubbered.

"I know," Adam murmured, moving his hand to pat Ducky's back. "I'm sorry."

"Daddy," Ducky sobbed out helplessly. 

Adam's hand stilled. _God, not this again._ Adam would take cleaning up vomit over this.

"Daddy went to the store to get you some stuff to help you feel better," Adam responded quickly, his heart beating hard in his chest. "He'll be back really soon. I'm just gonna sit with you until he gets back, okay?"

" _Daddy_ ," Ducky wailed again. Followed by unintelligible mumbles.

"You want me to turn on the TV?" Adam tried. "We can watch something until Daddy gets back."

"No," Ducky sniffed. Followed by a long tearful sentence in which Adam could pick out the words _Daddy_ , _hurts_ , and _hold me_.

Reiterating the fact that Ronan was not there wasn't going to help anything. Distraction was Adam's best option. He said, "Come here, Ducky. I'll hold you."

To his surprise, Ducky went into Adam's arms willingly. He burrowed himself into Adam's chest, rubbing his nose against Adam's shirt. "My tummy hurts, Daddy."

Adam's heart stopped in his chest.

He blinked, looked down at Ducky, who was snuggled tightly against him, his face pressed into his neck. Here he was, this little boy, sick and in pain. There was a nice, comfy couch to lay on right in front of him but he'd rather be held by Adam. Adam was overwhelmed by the responsibility of it. _That word_. That word had nothing to do with him. The blind terror he felt at the abstract thought of it, and worse, the way it warmed him from the inside out to hear Ducky's little voice say it just like that, curled into Adam like he was the safest place in the world. None of that was relevant.

 _He's sick_ , Adam reminded himself, repressing his panic and locking it into a small, tucked away compartment. _He's sick and half asleep and doesn't know what he's saying._

"I know it hurts, baby," Adam said, moving to rub a gentle circle across Ducky's back. "I know. It'll be okay. You'll feel better soon."

"We need to talk," Ronan said, after Ducky had polished off half a bag of pretzels and sipped ginger ale until he'd fallen back asleep.

"He called me daddy," Adam blurted out.

Ronan gaped at him. "What?"

"When he woke up," Adam clarified. "He was asking for you, I think, and then he just got confused." Adam swallowed the lump in his throat. "I think."

Ronan's expression remained unchanged. "Okay."

"Well," Adam crossed his arms uncomfortably. "I mean. I hope he—I mean, you don't think that he actually—thinks…I'm…" Adam coughed, unable to properly form his thoughts in spoken words. "Do you?"

"I don't know," Ronan shrugged. "What did you say after he said it?"

"I...nothing," Adam replied. "He just wanted to be held so I held him. He said he didn't feel good and that his stomach hurt so I just kind of...focused on that."

Ronan narrowed his eyes. Adam threw up his hands. "What the hell was I _supposed_ to say?"

"I…" Finally, Ronan had the decency to look at least vaguely troubled. "I really don't know."

A moment later, he shook his head. "Whatever. We've got bigger problems than that."

Adam didn't see how any matter could be more pressing than the possibility of Ducky being under the impression that he was his _father_.

"My brother called me while I was out," Ronan explained, wringing his hands, uncharacteristically awkward. "I forgot Matthew was following me on Instagram. He's never on. He never uses it."

Adam blinked. "What?"

"He's so—ugh. He doesn't think! He had to fucking ask Declan about it, and then Declan asked my _mom_ , Jesus—" Ronan put his head in his hands. "Fuck."

"So wait," Adam processed this information rapidly, his brain whirring through the implications. "So, your family...they think…"

"Mom's a few hours away, you know," Ronan's voice was muffled by his hands. "And Declan and Matthew are traveling this weekend to see her. I was gonna go and take Ducky, too."

"And now?" Adam prompted, though he was certain he already knew the punchline to the awful joke that had become his life.

"That's what Declan was calling about," Ronan looked up as he spoke, his eyes lit with a fiery self hatred. "Apparently they all can't wait to meet my boyfriend."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry for being trash, as always. Life updates for those that don't follow me on tumblr: I'm in college now! How meta right!!! I've been extremely busy but I am so unspeakably grateful for all the unbelievably kind words and comments and messages I've gotten because of this story and all the incredible support everyone has given me. I'm not in the position to write monstrously long chapters anymore and I honestly didn't even have the time to write this one. I've got so much homework and a paper due this weekend and yet,,,, somehow I cranked 7k of this instead. I DONT REGRET IT!!!!!!!!! I love you all so much and I hope this is an enjoyable chapter for you guys. Stuff is......STARTING TO HAPPEN.

“You know,” Henry’s fingers swirled through Noah’s hair, the two of them lounged together on Gansey’s couch, Noah’s entire upper body propped up on Henry’s chest, “I’m starting to think your boyfriend doesn’t like us.” 

 

“Make room,” Blue shoved at Noah’s stretched-out legs and then quickly yanked them back so they could settle on top of her lap as she snuggled up against him. It was a rather obscene position, altogether. 

 

“Why wouldn’t he like us?” Noah asked, quite happy to be sandwiched between the two people he was now nuzzling against. “We’re adorable.” 

 

“Does  _ this _ freak him out?” Blue asked, nudging her cheek against Noah’s shoulder. “We can be a little obnoxious.” 

 

“Bite your tongue,” Henry chastised, his own aforementioned organ now languidly making its way across Noah’s exposed collarbone. 

 

“Stop trying to turn me on,” Blue kicked her feet ineffectively at Henry. “You’re just proving my point.” 

 

“He doesn’t give a shit about your four-headed freak show,” Ronan huffed. “I told you, he’s sick.” 

 

“Well then why the fuck are you here?” Henry stopped mouthing at Noah to spit this at Ronan. “You should be, like, rubbing his chest with mentholatum and spoon-feeding him soup. What kind of boyfriend are you?” 

 

“Mmm,” Noah settled back into Henry’s chest. “That sounds nice. Tell Adam to come sneeze on me.” 

 

“Unlike you people,” Ronan said, “We don’t need to be up each other’s asses twenty-four-seven.” 

 

“Oh!” Henry sat up straight. “Now there’s something we’ve all been wondering. When one does find the time to be up the other’s ass, which one of you is—”

 

“I’m going to check on Ducky,” Ronan stood up to leave. He’d been left to nap upstairs and if anything could clear his mind of the image Ronan’s brain was now traitorously producing, it was the sight of his sleeping child. 

 

“Aww, you made him blush!” Blue cooed. 

 

“Did I?” Henry was thoughtful. “Definitely taking it, then.” 

 

“Not necessarily,” Noah argued. “You know how flushed Blue’s face gets when she pegs—”

 

Ronan quickened his pace at the sounds of a scuffle that was probably going to turn into messy sex on the couch, knowing the three of them.

 

He sighed as he took in Ducky’s still sleeping form and quietly shut the door. He slumped to the ground and pulled out his phone so he could take a satirically unflattering photo of himself with his fist propping up his weary face, eyes rolled to the back of his head.  _ Marooned upstairs because the three stooges are having sex on the couch,  _ he captioned it with and hit send. 

 

Less than a minute later he received a photo in response, an image of Adam’s face from an atrociously downward angle. Well it was more hair and eyes than face, as half of it was covered with a medical mask. 

 

_ Trying not to start the next plague _ , the text beneath it read. 

 

**where are u??? shouldn’t u be in bed???** Ronan texted back without thinking.

 

Then, quickly tacked on as Adam was typing, **you look like an idiot** _._

 

_ Last minute cramming for a test. Wasn’t gonna go to class but I’m doing a lot better, just still coughing a bit and running a low-grade fever. _

 

_ Oh thanks.  _

 

_ Who are the three stooges?  _

 

**blue noah and henry**

 

**they’re insatiable**

 

**i think i just heard the couch break.**

 

_ Why isn’t Gansey part of this afternoon delight?  _

 

_ Is the couch not big enough? _

 

_ Is he watching?  _

 

_ Taking notes?  _

 

_ Filming? _

 

_ You’re not giving me a very vivid mental picture, here.  _

 

**i could go downstairs and take some pics with my eyes closed**

**if ur rly that hard up for some action**

 

**surprise considering ur line of work**

 

_ Oh, man. Haven’t heard a prostitute joke in ages.  _

 

_ And here I’d thought you’d forgotten.  _

 

**just waiting for the right time…**

 

**don’t want them to get stale, u know**

 

_ Of course.  _

 

_ Where’s Ducky? _

 

**he’s sleeping rn**

 

_ <3 _

 

_ Pic?  _

 

**creeper** , Ronan texted, as he quietly made his way back inside the room where his son still lay contentedly asleep. He was very practiced at entering beds with sleeping Duckys in them and was able to do so without waking him. He wrapped himself around his little boy and extended one arm out, dipping his face to press into Ducky’s curly hair while he snapped a photo. 

 

_ AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!  _ was Adam’s surprisingly animated response, accompanied with an excessive amount of kissy face and heart eyed emojis. 

 

_ Miss him so much. _

 

It was unforgivable, the way pixelated words on a fucking screen could made Ronan’s insides twist in  _ that way _ , that way that the insides of teenage girls twisted when they saw Chris Evans or a British youtube personality, he could only assume. 

 

He breathed out and rolled over and off the bed, careful not to jostle his sleeping son. 

 

It was just...nice. 

 

It was nice to have someone that he could trust leaving his temperamental, codependent child with. It was nice to know there was someone out there, someone who wasn’t related to Ronan by blood or other means — Gansey and Blue and their respective boyfriends— and therefore predispositioned to love any new extension of him, who could love and care for Ducky just as much. As if he were his own. 

 

And Ronan liked Adam. He was good with his little boy. He went along with every increasingly preposterous scheme Ronan had dragged him into just to keep this ridiculous ‘boyfriend’ cover going. 

 

Although Ronan was pretty sure he was a fucking liar, or at the very least, a professional in keeping secrets. Then again, that wasn’t really any of Ronan’s business. If Adam had a third nipple or a BDSM dungeon, it didn’t really affect his ability to babysit his kid or to play Good Boyfriend in front of his friends when emergency situations called for it. 

 

And that was all that really mattered, wasn’t it? 

 

Besides, whatever skeletons  _ were _ rotting away in Adam’s closet were not ones that could make him think any less of him. Ronan was certain of that. Adam might not have been forthcoming, but he was true to the words he did speak. That counted for something, at least. 

 

He was clearly smart. And not in some annoying pretentious bullshit kind of way, either. He’d see a book on Ronan’s shelf and start rattling away about it in that incensed passionate way Gansey did about dead kings and conspiracy theories.  _ Oh, you’ve read this? _ he’d asked, his eyebrows going up with excitement rather than furrowing with suspicion. He was dedicated to his studies in a way that Ronan hadn’t ever experienced before. He wasn’t like the silver spooned sheeple that swarmed the halls of Aglionby Academy. All those people cared about was looking good, making their families look good by getting the best grades, into the best schools. They memorized facts as a means to an end and forgot them as soon as they were no longer useful. Adam, on the other hand, seemed to absorb knowledge like a sponge. And instead of wielding it like a weapon, he wore it like armor. It radiated from him like some kind of powerful magic. He wasn’t really much like anyone Ronan has ever met before. 

 

And it was just...nice. 

 

**he misses u too** , Ronan finally responded. 

 

**u should come by. save me from the sex fiends.**

 

**and see ducky** , he tacked on at the last minute, nearly forgetting that was what they were supposed to be talking about.

 

_Don’t want to get him sick_ , Adam replied.

 

**he got u sick first, it’d only be fair.**

 

By the time the couch had stopped squeaking, Adam still hadn’t replied. Ronan tried not to have any sort of emotion about that.  _ He’s studying and he’s not feeling well _ , he reminded himself, face going hot at the private shame of having to rationalize this in his own stupid brain. The repeated logic didn’t keep him from checking his phone again every two minutes. Eventually he put it on airplane mode and threw it across the hallway. 

 

He breathed out a soft sigh, the physical distance from that tragic little machine a heady relief. 

 

He crept back into the bedroom and crawled into bed beside his son. Ducky rolled toward him and slowly blinked his eyes open. “What’s wrong, daddy?” 

 

He sighed again and pulled his son closer to his chest. “Nothing,” he murmured against the top of his head. “I’m just an idiot.” 

 

“Oh, okay,” Ducky replied, visibly relieved, before rolling over and falling back asleep. 

  
  
  


* * *

 

  
“This was a bad idea,” Ronan huffed into his phone. Somehow, whenever he was in a crisis, Ronan always ended up calling Gansey. It was a completely reflexive reaction built on years of muscle memory. Crashed the car—call Gansey. Get arrested—call Gansey. Find a baby outside a grocery store and take him home—call Gansey. That was one crucible of a phone call. Gansey, who should have been used to this life role and long since accepted it, had the audacity to still act surprised. 

 

“You’re fucking me, Lynch.” 

 

“Not so loud,” Ronan had sniped back delightedly. “Blue will hear you and get jealous.” 

 

Gansey’s voice was a high pitched pterodactyl like thing. Ronan had to hold the phone away from his ear. 

 

“Stop screaming,” he hissed, warily eyeing the child in front of him. “I think you’re freaking him out.”

 

“Ronan, this isn’t funny!”

 

“Yeah,” Ronan agreed, “That’s probably why it’s not a fuc—I mean—shit. I mean, damn it! Oh my god, I can’t do this. Trying not to swear in front of a little kid is too hard.” 

 

“Ronan, please, please,” Gansey sounded close to tears now. “Please tell me this isn’t really happening. Please tell me you did not kidnap a child.” 

 

“I did not kidnap a child.” Ronan had noted the way the little boy flinched every time he raised his voice and managed to keep it at a reasonable level. “There was a note. It said to take him. Did you even listen to any part of what I just said?” 

 

“I can’t, I can’t talk to him, take this—” Gansey’s voice was farther away, as if he were physically distancing himself from the phone. Then another familiar voice was in his ear. 

 

“What did you do now, shitface?” Blue sounded equally worried as amused. “Gansey’s breathing into a paper bag.” 

 

“I was at the grocery store. Minding my own business. I walk outside to leave. There’s a carseat on the ground with a baby inside it. There’s a note that says ‘Please take him’, so I took him.” 

 

“Took him where?” 

 

“Here,” Ronan said. “Home. He’s in the bath right now.” 

 

“And why is he in the bath?” Blue’s voice was sort of distractedly curious, like Ronan was talking about something extremely commonplace and mundane, returning a neighbor’s wrongfully delivered mail. 

 

“It’s fuc—ugh—it’s freezing out. He was ice cold. And, he smelled weird. No offense,” he shot to the little boy quietly splashing around in his bathtub. The little boy paid him no mind. He was much more interested in the bubbles surrounding him. Ronan liked this kid. 

 

“He’s kind of adorable,” Ronan told Blue, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest. “I could send you a picture.” 

 

“You want to get arrested for child pornography?” Blue snarked back. 

 

“The fuck are you talking about?” Ronan was too taken aback to check himself. “I mean, sorry,” he directed at the child. “That’s a bad word. Don’t say bad words, okay?” The child continued to ignore him. 

 

Ronan smiled. 

 

“You cannot send me a picture of a naked child you abducted. When the cops come busting down your door for, you know, abducting a child, they’ll search for that sort of thing. And then we’ll both be in hot water.” 

 

“You watch too many true crime shows,” Ronan scoffed. “And Jesus, why is nobody getting this? I didn’t abduct him! There was a note!” 

 

Blue groaned loudly through the speaker. “I can see why you’ve driven Gansey to the edge.” 

 

She sighed, her voice going farther away. “Yes, he really took a baby.” 

 

A pause. 

 

“He’s giving it a bath.” 

 

Indecipherable screeching. 

 

“He said it was cold and smelled weird.”

 

Indignant huffing from Blue. 

 

“No, this isn’t like the time we teamed up to convince you that Noah was actually the ghost of a boy who’d gone missing in Henrietta. You’ve known Noah for years, it’s your own fault for being so gullible!” 

 

“Ronan,” it was Gansey’s voice back on the phone now. “You need to call the police. Now. I would call them myself but it would only complicate things. Tell them the whole story. Spare no details. Jesus, Ronan, you could be arrested for what you’ve already done. Just take the child out of the bath and re-dress him and don’t...don’t...do anything else until I get there. I’m calling my mother’s lawyer.” 

 

“I don’t understand why the police have to be involved at all.”

 

“Because when the parents report their child missing—” 

 

“Dude, the parents left this kid on the ground in front of a grocery store. With a note that said ‘take him’. They can eat my ass.” 

 

“You don’t know that for sure, Ronan!” Gansey shot back, hot and frustrated. “The child could have been abducted by someone else and then left for someone else to pick up when the kidnapper got cold feet. And even if he was truly abandoned, the parents could change their mind at any moment and get the police involved, and you could still be arrested for what you’ve done, regardless. God, Ronan. What were you thinking?” 

 

“I was thinking I just tripped over a baby in below zero weather and if I don’t pick him up and take him, someone else will. He was just...plopped on the goddamn ground. Like a piece of trash.” Ronan felt his veins igniting. “Anything could have happened to him. If I hadn’t taken him when I did, he could have fucking—I don’t know—froze to death! Or been picked up by someone else, someone who would have hurt him.” 

 

“Ronan,” Gansey’s voice had changed entirely. There was no more panic or frustration. Just quiet fondness. “I know you were trying to do something good, I know that. But if there are people out there who are going to come looking for this child, we have no idea who they are or what they’re capable of.” 

 

“They’re capable of abandoning their fucking kid.” Ronan had long since given up on trying not to swear. He’d have a talk with the kid about it later. 

 

“Exactly,” said Gansey. “If that is the case, then...just...just call the police, Ronan. I’ll call the lawyer. And then I’ll come wait with you.” 

 

Ronan considered this. “No.” 

 

“Ronan—”

 

“I’ll do it tomorrow. Go ahead and call your lawyer so we can get a leg up on what might happen when we do call the police.” 

 

“I see your point,” Gansey agreed. “But I still think it would be in your best interest to do this as soon as possible. It makes you look less…” 

 

“Less  _ what _ ?” 

 

“Less guilty,” Gansey ground out. “That’s just what the police are going to think, Ronan. You’re a grown man. You touched this kid, you took its clothes off.” 

 

“To give him a fucking bath!” Ronan was disgusted to the point of nausea. “Jesus Christ, I used to give Matthew baths all the time. It’s not weird.” 

 

“I know that, Ronan,” Gansey’s voice was weary. “I know. I’m just telling you how it’s going to look from the outside.” 

 

“Then call your fucking lawyers and tell them everything. I’m not calling the police today. This kid’s been through enough already. Watch. Hey,” he directed his voice back at the little boy in his bathtub. “Hey. I have to ask you something, okay? And I need you to be honest with me. Can you do that?” 

 

The little boy blinked his big brown eyes up at Ronan, silent fear clear on his round face. 

 

“It’s okay,” Ronan told him gently. “I just need you to tell me what you want, alright? Do you want me to try to find your parents? Do you want to go home?” 

 

“Ronan…” Gansey sighed over the phone. “Christ.” 

 

“Shh,” Ronan hissed at him, then averted his attention back to the child. He repeated his questions but the little boy stayed nonresponsive. 

 

“You can’t talk to a little kid like that,” Gansey critiqued from the phone. “He doesn’t understand. Ask him if he knows how he got to the grocery store. No. Wait. Start with something easy. Ask him about his parents. Ask if he knows his mommy or daddy’s name.” 

 

“I’m not a complete idiot, Dick,” Ronan huffed back at him. “Do you not think I’ve already tried all that? He’s like, a baby, dude.” 

 

“Just ask him if he has a mom or dad,” Gansey instructed. “Or grandma or or uncle or...or any family.” 

 

“He said he didn’t know.” 

 

“Didn’t know if he had a family?” 

 

“I guess not!” Gansey was really getting on his nerves. “You’re stressing me out. Call the lawyers. I’ll deal with Ducky.” 

 

“Ducky?” 

 

“That’s what I’m calling him. He won’t tell me his name. But he likes ducks. It’s a whole thing. You wouldn’t get it.” 

 

“I…” Ronan had done a lot of things to Gansey over the years of their friendship, but he’d never actually rendered him completely speechless. “I have no response to that. I’ll call the lawyer.” 

 

“Hello to you, too,” Gansey replied wearily in the present day. “What have you done this time?” 

 

“Adam’s on his way.” 

 

“Oh.” Gansey’s voice went exceptionally Gansey-like. “It’s going to be fine, Ronan.” 

 

Ronan huffed again, unable to formulate a response. 

 

“What are you worried about?” 

 

“I don’t know.” 

 

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” 

 

“I just,” Ronan felt like he was pulling out one of his own teeth with rusty pliers. “I don’t know. I want. I want…” 

 

“Your family to like your boyfriend?” Gansey finished for him, an unsettling note of pleasure in his voice. 

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Ronan snapped. “No.” Adam wasn’t his boyfriend. And this whole situation was fucking ridiculous. “Yes.” 

 

“He’s kind of impossible not to like,” Gansey told him. “And once they see how much Ducky loves him and how serious he is about the both of you, they’ll melt.” 

 

“Yeah,” Ronan scoffed. “I don’t know about that.” 

 

“Well, maybe not Declan. But he’ll at least defrost.” 

 

“That’s not what I mean,” Ronan rolled his eyes. “It’s just. Awkward. I shouldn’t have taken things this far.” 

 

“What do you mean?” Gansey sounded troubled now. 

 

“With this whole...thing!” Ronan growled in frustration. Part of him really just wanted to tell Gansey the truth. He didn’t know why he was still holding onto this fake boyfriend bullshit. “Having someone meet my fucking family...I can’t...take that back.” 

 

“Uh, well…” said Gansey. “With all due respect, it’s a little late to be thinking of the consequences of your actions, Ronan. Especially since Ducky is so attached to Adam.” 

 

“I fucking know that, Dick.” Ronan sniped back. “That’s why I’m kind of freaking the fuck out right now. I got caught up in all this cutesy bullshit and I just thought—I didn’t fucking think. That’s the problem. And now I’m fucked. ” 

 

“Well, just hold on a second—” 

 

“And he’s not, by the way.” Ronan spoke over Gansey’s floundering. 

 

“Who’s not what?” 

 

“Adam.” Ronan said. “He’s not serious about this.” 

 

“He told you that?” 

 

Ronan closed his eyes, exhausted. “No. But—” 

 

“Then you can’t possibly know that,” Gansey said with a righteous air of authority. “If he wasn’t serious, then why on Earth would he agree to drive all this way to spend the weekend with your family? What could he possibly gain from that?” 

 

The cool 3k Ronan was paying him to do it.

 

That night Adam had rushed over to watch Ducky while he was sick, they’d still been hashing out the negotiations by the time the sun was coming up. 

 

“This is ridiculous. I can’t just meet your family. This has gone way too fucking far. I never should have even agreed to do the thing with your friends. And now Ducky thinks I’m his fucking dad or something, Jesus, Ronan. We have to stop this.” 

 

“I’ll talk to Ducky about that. I’m sure he was just confused. He’s a fucking little kid. And he was sick and scared and wanted to be held. Give him a break.” 

 

“I’m not mad at him, I’m mad at you! This is all your fault.” 

 

“Look, I have a plan.” 

 

“Since when?” 

 

“I thought about it on the drive home.” 

 

“Jesus.” 

 

“Do you want to hear the plan or not?” 

 

“If it involves meeting your family and continuing this fucking boyfriend charade, then no, I don’t.” 

 

“It also involves three thousand dollars.” 

 

“Hilarious,” Adam had deadpanned. 

 

“I’m serious,” Ronan had insisted. “I worked it out in the car. I think it’s reasonable for the amount of work you have to do. Which really isn’t a lot, if you’d listen to the plan. I threw in an extra two thousand for having to spend the weekend with Declan. Every time he says something problematic I’ll raise your pay five dollars more. You’re going to be rich by the end of it.” 

 

“Do you really think that just because I do sex work—” 

 

“Oh my God!” Ronan groaned. “It has nothing to do with that. Paying people for services is like a globally recognized normal thing to do. I pay you to babysit Ducky. Some people pay you for sex. Whatever. Now I’m offering you money to do this one last thing for me and if you would _ just listen  _ to the  _ plan _ —” 

 

“Alright, what’s the plan?” 

 

“You’re gonna do it?” 

 

“No. But I want to hear the plan, anyway.” 

 

“You don’t get to hear the plan unless you’re gonna do it.” 

 

Eventually Adam agreed to do it, as long as they stuck to the plan. 

 

“This is the part where you tell me you would have done it for less,” Ronan smirked as he walked Adam out the door. 

 

Adam had turned to back to glare at him, looking like an angered God in the harsh sunlight of the morning. “I wouldn’t have.” 

 

“Well, I wouldn’t have paid more.” Ronan replied, crossing his arms haughtily over his chest. 

 

“Great,” Adam squinted. “We’re not in a romantic comedy, then.” 

 

“Obviously the fuck not.” Ronan snorted at that. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re just not my type.” 

 

“Yeah,” said Adam. “Except that time you hired me to have sex with you specifically based on my appearance.” 

 

“I did not.” Ronan shook his head emphatically. “They asked me if I had a preference and I said I didn’t care. You were just available.” 

 

“Your dick was hard when we were making out.” 

 

“So was yours.” 

 

Adam laughed at that, a radiantly beautiful sight, and shrugged. “Kissing turns me on. When it’s good. And you’re a good kisser. What’s your excuse?” 

 

Ronan prayed his cheeks weren’t as red as they suddenly felt. “Uh, I was super fucking desperate.” 

 

Adam turned more fully toward Ronan, planting his hands defiantly on his hips. “And I’m a good kisser.” 

 

Ronan scrunched his face in disgust. “No way. Too much tongue.” 

 

“I use the perfect amount of tongue.” Adam argued. “I’ve been told so by countless middle aged women.” 

 

“Whatever.” Ronan rolled his eyes. “Is your unbridled lust for me gonna be a problem or what?” 

 

“Don’t worry,” Adam told him with a disarmingly cheeky smile. “Your personality ruined it. I don’t think I could get it up for you now if my life depended on it.” 

 

Now it was Ronan’s turn to laugh. “Good to know.” 

 

Ronan turned his attention back to the present moment.  “I don’t know,” he grumbled miserably. 

 

“Do you think Adam loves Ducky?” 

 

“What?” Ronan was startled by the question. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

 

“You don’t think it’s important to know if the person you’re exposing to your child—”

 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Ronan pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s not what this is about. I know he loves Ducky. We already talked about when we break up—” 

 

“When?” Gansey’s voice went up an octave. “That’s a bit pessimistic.” 

 

“If,” Ronan corrected himself, heart stuttering at his near fatal flaw in revealing The Plan he and Adam had discussed. “If we ever break up..he’s not just going to, like, abandon Ducky. And I’m not going to be a fucking dick about it. He can still come see Ducky whenever he wants. Take him to go do stuff. So. Whatever. I don’t care.” 

 

“Oh, Ronan, that’s wonderful!” Gansey practically cooed. “Very responsible of you both. I’m so glad.” 

 

“Yeah well.” Ronan kicked at the ground beneath his feet. “Send my medal in the mail.” 

 

“You’re just nervous,” Gansey told him gently. “It’s perfectly natural. But I’m sure everything’s going to be fine.”

 

“If you s—” There was suddenly a commotion from inside the house, an excited shout of “I’ll get it!” followed by the thunderously loud footsteps that belonged to his brother, Matthew, and Ronan’s heart kicked into double-time. “Fuck,” he hissed. “I have to go.” 

 

* * *

  
  


Adam had spent the entire week psyching himself up for this weekend trip to meet Ronan’s family. He’d gotten all his homework done and informed the company he worked for he wouldn’t be available so he could devote the weekend entirely to this...this...whatever this was. 

 

Another job, at the end of the day. A thing he was being paid money to do. 

 

Keeping this in mind, he wasn’t very nervous. If this were a real meet-the-family situation, he’d be sweating bullets and two klonopin deep by now, but it wasn’t. And as long as he and Ronan stuck to The Plan, everything would be fine. A little awkward, maybe. But ultimately fine. 

 

“Hi!” A broad-shouldered young man with curly blonde hair appeared in front of him as the door swung open. “I’m Matthew.” 

 

“Hi,” Adam smiled easily, shifting the things in his hands so he could extend one to Matthew. “It’s nice to meet you, I texted Ronan to tell him I was here but he didn’t—oh.”

 

Adam was suddenly breathless from the crushing intensity of Matthew’s arms wrapped around him. He staggered backward, still trying to hold onto his overnight bag and the bouquet of flowers he’d brought.

 

“Sorry!” Matthew, ox-strong, hauled the both of them back upright and grabbed for Adam’s bag. “I’ll take that.” 

 

“Oh, you don’t have to—” But Matthew was already slinging it over his shoulder. 

 

Matthew beamed at him and Adam stood outside the doorway awkwardly, unsure of what to do with himself. 

 

“He’s waiting for you to invite him in, love.” 

 

Adam’s eyes flicked up to see a startlingly beautiful woman with long, wavy blonde hair with a face very similar to Matthew’s. Ronan must’ve taken more after his father, he couldn’t see much of him in her. Except maybe the eyes. They were the same shade of blue. 

 

“Welcome to our home, Adam. Please come in.” The two of them stepped back to allow Adam to enter and Adam wondered if she was being overly formal for the occasion or if she always spoke like she was narrating a medieval fantasy novel. 

 

“Um, these are for you.” He thrust forward the bouquet he was still awkwardly holding onto. Her eyes widened as she plucked them gracefully from his hands. 

 

“What are they?” She asked, delicately touching her finger to one of the petals. 

 

“Oh.” He was an idiot. “I, um, I’m actually not sure.” 

 

“They’re yellow,” offered Matthew, unhelpfully. 

 

She tilted her head at Adam, curious. “Why did you choose them?” 

 

Adam felt as if every thought he’d ever had in his life evaporated clean out of his brain in one solitary moment. Quick to recover, as always, he cleared his throat and said in his best Earnest Good Boy voice. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. I’m afraid I don’t know much about flowers. I just picked these because I thought they were pretty.” 

 

It worked. Ronan’s mother smiled at him and said, “So they are.” He felt his body relax. He could do this. All he had to do was stick to The Plan. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ronan had to fight the urge to cross himself before entering the scene of his mother, brother, and fake boyfriend all standing together chatting in the living room of his mother’s house. 

 

“Hey,” he he announced himself gruffy. “Sorry. Wasn’t looking at my phone.” 

 

“What else is new?” Matthew rolled his eyes. “Lucky for you we’re so charming and have been keeping Adam entertained in your absence.” 

 

Ronan flicked him on the ear. “You want a headlock or what?” 

 

Matthew lit up with delight. “I’d like to see you try. I kicked your ass last time.” 

 

“Hey, watch your mouth!” 

 

“No headlocks until after dinner,” said Ronan’s mother. “Matthew, set the table. I’m going to put these,” she held up the bouquet of unidentified yellow flowers, “in some water. Thank you, Adam.” 

 

Ronan shoved his hands into his pockets, regarded Adam with a pursed glare. “You’re early.” 

 

“Sorry,” Adam winced. “I texted you.” 

 

“Whatever,” Ronan shook his head. He took the opportunity to look Adam up and down. He was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt with a loose, faded red flannel over it. “You look like a JC Penney catalog model. And I don’t mean that in a good way.” 

 

“I can’t imagine how else that could be interpreted,” Adam scoffed. Ronan had to bite back a laugh. 

 

“Your hair,” he said. 

 

Adam ran a hand through the messy, vaguely brown waves. “You said it looked better like this.” 

 

Ronan smirked. “It does.” 

 

Adam sighed wearily. “Where’s Ducky?” 

 

“Declan took him out for ice cream.” 

 

“Wow,” Adam raised an eyebrow. “Ronan N. Lynch allowing sweets before dinner?” 

 

“I was not consulted on the matter,” Ronan told him. “Nice move with the flowers, by the way.” 

 

Adam shrugged. 

 

“That wasn’t part of the plan.” 

 

“Sorry,” Adam said for the second time. “I just saw them on my way and I thought it would be a nice thing to do.” 

 

“Don’t be fucking extra,” Ronan warned him. “I told you, we’re just going to—” 

 

“I know!” Adam hissed, annoyance shading his expression. “You’ve only told me like a thousand times. I’m not stupid.” 

 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Ronan growled back, his anxiety spiking to new heights. 

 

“Daddy, you left the door open!” Ronan turned sharply at the voice of his son and there was his older brother, Declan, carrying Ducky on his shoulders while Ducky chomped messily on a desecrated nub of what once might have been an ice cream cone. “Were you raised in a barn?” 

 

Declan laughed that high pitched, obnoxious laugh of his as he maneuvered Ducky down. “I told him to say that.” 

 

“I would have never guessed,” Ronan flickered his eyes at his brother, forcing his voice to be as neutral as possible, which he always did in front of Ducky. He reached out for his son, then. “Hey, you. Come here. Look who’s here to see you.” 

 

“Hi, Adam.” Ducky chomped his words around the remainder of his before-dinner-dessert. “It’s been awhile.” 

 

Adam’s carefully poised demeanor shattered in an instant, doubling over with laughter at Ducky’s odd greeting. 

 

“It sure has,” Adam stepped closer to run a hand through Ducky’s hair. “I missed you. Did you miss me?” 

 

Ducky nodded, still working with a mouthful of food. 

 

“Uncle Matty’s in the dining room,” Ronan told him, crouching to put him down. “Go find him and tell him you need to be cleaned up for dinner.” 

 

“Okay,” Ducky contentedly agreed to these terms and toddled out of sight. 

 

Ronan turned his attention to Declan. “You’re ruining my kid.” 

 

“Hey, that last one wasn’t my fault,” Declan said with a dry chuckle. “He’s just weird.” 

 

“No he fucking isn’t.” Ronan felt his blood boiling. “And thanks for asking my permission before you took him out.”

 

Declan rolled his eyes. “Don’t start.” 

 

“Are you fucking—”

 

“Hi,” Adam stepped between them, smiling warmly at Declan with a hand extended to shake. “I’m Adam.” 

 

Declan blinked as he took the sight of Adam in, then shook his head with a wry smile. “Nah, no way.” 

 

Adam’s face was puzzled. “Uh. I’m sorry?” 

 

“I don’t buy this for a second. There’s no way in hell you’re dating my brother.” He turned his gazed to Ronan. “How much you paying this guy, Ro-Ro?” 

 

Ronan’s blood went from boiling to frozen solid. He stared at his brother like a deer caught the headlights of an oncoming semi-truck. Declan could always see right through him, but what the fuck? Had he been keeping tabs on him again? Had someone watching him? Bugged his house? With Declan, anything was possible. 

 

“Only a couple thousand for the weekend,” Adam addressed Declan with a matching smirk. “But he told me he’d give me an extra five dollars every time you say something offensive.” 

 

Declan laughed and the nails on a chalkboard quality it held broke Ronan out of his fear-stricken paralysis. 

 

A joke. 

 

He’d been joking. 

 

Fucking asshole. 

 

Declan moved forward to take Adam’s hand and clap him on the back with his right. He always did that when he thought he was Having A Moment with someone and it was so fucking annoying. 

 

“Gonna go help set up,” he said, before releasing Adam and sauntering toward the dining room. “I like this guy, Ronan!” 

 

“Are you actively _ trying _ to fuck this up?” 

 

“The best liars tell the truth,” Adam replied. “And at least I said  _ something _ . You just stood there and shit your pants.” He smiled. “Ro-Ro.” 

 

“I’m gonna kill you,” Ronan promised. “Slowly.” 

 

Adam shrugged. “Then I’ll just die happy, Ro-Ro.” 

 

“Stop it!” He hissed, clenching his fists childishly at his sides. “Just. Fuck. Are you serious about this?” 

 

Adam’s smile fell. “What do you mean?” 

 

“The….the plan!” Ronan’s cheeks flushed. “Look, I need to know you’re going to follow through and not throw me any more fucking curveballs, okay?” 

 

Adam stepped back from him. “Um. I didn’t know being nice to your family was throwing a curveball. But. Okay. Fine. You know I didn’t have to do this, right? I told you before and I’m telling you again: I’m not that desperate for your fucking money. I’m trying to help you out of this mess —that you created, by the way— because I  _ want _ to help. Is that serious enough for you?” 

 

Ronan made a frustrated noise. “I know, I know. I’m—sorry. I’m acting like a psycho. I know it. I’m just...my family is really important to me and this is a sensitive fucking situation and...I’m just nervous, alright?” 

 

Adam softened and Ronan felt his insides unconstrict. “Well. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was fucking it up.” 

 

“You’re not,” Ronan sighed. “You’re not. I am. You—You’re perfect.” Ronan squeezed his eyes shut, cringing at his own stupidity. “I mean you’re acting—being—you know what I mean.” 

 

“Hey.” Ronan opened his eyes at the touch of Adam’s hands on his shoulders and was startled by the other boy’s closeness. When Adam was this close the muted freckles on his face were visible and he could see the fuzzy golden circle that ringed the inside of his otherwise very blue eyes. His breath caught in his throat. 

 

“I am serious about this,” Adam told him, his young-adult-novel-love-interest eyes intensely focused on Ronan’s. “And it’s all gonna work out fine. We’ll stick to the plan. And this weekend will be over before you know it.” 

 

Ronan opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the thundering of Matthew’s big ass feet careening down the hallway and stopping in front of them. 

 

“Hey guys,” he said, obliviously unaffected by the scene he’d just walked in on. “The table’s all set up. And I put Adam’s stuff in with yours.” 

 

Ronan startled. “What? Why?” 

 

“Uh…” Matthew looked skyward. “Because...that’s where he’s staying?” 

 

“I thought we were putting him in the main guest room,” Ronan blinked at him. “You know, because he’s our guest?” 

 

“That’s where Declan’s staying.”

 

“What the fuck? Why? Tell him he can’t.” 

 

“I just put all his stuff in there!” Matthew whined exasperatedly. “He said he was taking it because Adam was gonna be sleeping with you. You know, because he’s your boyfriend?” He looked back and forth between Ronan and Adam. “Do you two  _ not _ wanna sleep together?” 

 

“No. I mean, yes. I mean—” Ronan sputtered, “I have to sleep with Ducky.” 

 

“Ducky said he wanted to sleep with Declan.” 

 

“God,” Ronan dragged his fingertips across his forehead. “Okay. Fine.” 

 

“I guess Adam could stay in my room and I could sleep on the couch,” Matthew mused, looking very displeased with the idea. “But my room’s a disaster. It’d take forever to clean.” 

 

“It’s really not a problem,” Adam told him. “You don’t have to give up your room for me, Matthew. Ronan’s just being dramatic because I’m a blanket hog.” 

 

“Ugh!” Matthew threw up his hands. “This whole time I thought I was like, offending Adam or something. Get over it, Ronan.” 

 

Declan suddenly appeared by his side. “What’s the problem?” 

 

“Ronan wanted Adam to sleep in the guest room and I told him you were staying there and I thought it was because Adam wanted a room to himself and I was being a bad host but it’s just because Ronan wants extra blankets!” And with that, Matthew spun on his heels and left. 

 

Declan eyed Ronan oddly. “Extra blankets?” 

  
Ronan shrugged. “I get cold.” This was going to be the longest weekend of his entire life. 


	5. Chapter 5

Adam couldn’t be sure if he was awake or dreaming. The unrelenting pain in his head seemed too real for his subconscious to conjure up all on its own. It had never been that creative. His dreams were limited to the usual: showing up to school naked, falling from high places, being chased by an unseen assailant, getting a bad grade back on a test, things like that. But the fog that ceased to dissipate from the corners of his eyes said otherwise. His head was so heavy, he wouldn’t have been able to lift it up if there was a loaded gun pressed to it. His eyes wouldn’t stay open. He could hear people talking. He’d read about the phenomenon of sleep paralysis before. Was that what this was? 

“He’s still pretty in and out, not very lucid when he’s in,” a spritely feminine voice was tiptoeing around him. It was familiar and not. “Fairly normal, considering everything.”

“Any sign of brain damage?” A much deeper, decidedly male voice said in response. 

“Way too early for that,” the first voice chirped. “We haven’t even got a coherent sentence out of him yet. As soon as I can get my hands on the CT results I’ll let you know.”

The male voice grumbled something indiscernible thoroughly drenched in a general disdain for most things. The familiarity of that was so potent Adam managed to wrench his eyes open wide and hold them like that, squinting in the harsh light. 

A screeching of metal across linoleum crumpled his face further. “Hey, hey! Look!” 

“Calm down,” the voice, which had now attached itself to a blonde woman with a round face looking down at him. “Hey there,” she said with a small, tired smile. “Good morning.” 

Confusion swirled within him. He couldn’t stop blinking, some kind of intrinsic side effect, like his brain was an overheating machine. 

Blonde woman ran a hand through her blunt cut bangs, uselessly pushing them to the side only for them to fall back down above her eyes. “You feel up to some light conversation? I have a couple questions.” 

Adam felt himself nod, though his faith in himself to be given a test of any kind right now was abysmally low. 

“I like to start by going ahead and telling people they’re in the hospital. And luckily, in your case, that you’re banged up, but okay. I think context is important.” 

Adam found himself unsurprised by this news, though he had no idea why. It made sense and yet it didn’t. The same way this woman seemed both familiar and foreign. 

“Can you tell me your name?” Adam was so focused on trying to place this woman’s face in his memories that it had started to wrinkle with concern before Adam realized he’d missed the question. 

“Adam Parrish.” His throat burned through a hoarse cough. 

“Can you get me cup of water?” Blonde Woman raised her head to address someone else. The squeak of footsteps dug into Adam’s brain like nails down a chalkboard. He squeezed his eyes shut, another wave of agonizing pain pulsing through his skull. 

“I’m sensing some light and sound sensitivity.” When Adam opened his eyes again, Blonde Woman was scribbling onto a clipboard. “That’s normal,” she told him. “We’ll get you some really dorky sunglasses to wear.”

The next thing that occurred to Adam crackled inside his chest like hot water being poured over ice. “What...what day is it? How long have I been here?” 

“You were admitted late Saturday morning and it’s early Monday morning now, so, just shy of 48 hours.” 

“Monday?” Adam’s head spun. Fuck. He had class. “I have to go.” 

“Yeah, not gonna happen.” Blonde Woman frowned at him. “We’ll need to observe you for another couple days, at the very least. But just measuring by eye, I’d say a moderately severe concussion is the worst of your problems. The broken arm and bruised ribs aren’t too bad.” 

“Jesus Christ.” There was that male voice again. “Are you like this with all your patients?” 

“Nah,” Blonde Woman smiled with her teeth showing and the gust of familiarity hit Adam so hard he started seeing spots in his vision. “He’s getting the friends and family treatment.” 

“He’s not really your friend,” Male Voice said, tone chilly. 

Blonde Woman was raising Adam’s bed up now, gently helping him into a more upright position. She handed him the long ago promised cup of water. “Any friend of Noah’s is a friend of mine. You’re lucky I abide by such a code or you wouldn’t be in here right now.” 

Adam was slowly collecting the bits of information that were being given to him like puzzle pieces he would begin to assemble once he was sure he had all of them. 

Apparently he had a friend named Noah. Who knew this Blonde Woman. He supposed that was why she looked familiar. 

Choosing to be unalarmed by this, he took a long swig of water, wishing for those dorky sunglasses Blonde Woman had mentioned. She might have been joking, Adam realized a full ten seconds later. 

The next mystery on the docket in Adam’s mind was the Male Voice in the room. He finally managed to wriggle his head into a position where he could see the source of it. A tall, broad shouldered man with neatly trimmed and styled black hair stood on the opposite side of Adam’s bed. He was dressed like his job was casually business. He had his arms crossed, looking at Adam like he was a snowy driveway that needed to be shoveled. 

Blonde Woman, whose name turned out to be Adele, asked Adam a few more questions and explained a few more things, made promises to return with some strong anti inflammatory medicine for his pain, the call button to ask for help, things like that, before flitting off to find the sunglasses, which miraculously, had not been a joke.

“Can I ask you a favor?” Adam turned his attention to Male Voice who he assumed he must know, since he was in his hospital room and clearly not a nurse or a doctor. 

Male Voice, who needed a better name, though Adam hadn’t summoned up the wherewithal to ask, blinked warily at him. “Sure.” 

“I need to get into contact with my school. I need to explain why I won’t be in class. I don’t know where my phone...or...do you know where my phone is?” 

“Uh, I think it’s in the personal belongings bag the hospital put your clothes in. But I’m pretty sure it’s fucked. Must’ve been in your pocket when, uh, you know.” 

Adam didn’t know, but he nodded gravely, anyway. His phone was irretrievable and that mattered much more than anything else at the present moment. 

“But I’ll see about contacting your school. Gansey’s got a lot of clout there, as you well know. I’m sure between the two of us we can get it handled.” 

Images were coming to Adam in little bursts. Popping in front of his cloudy vision like tiny firecrackers. Things that reverberated in his chest but slipped around in his mind like a bar of too slick soap he couldn’t hold onto. Gansey, Gansey had talked to Professor Mallory for him, that one time. That’s who Gansey was. Gansey went to his school. Gansey was how he knew Noah. Noah, blonde and smiley, like Adele. They must have been related. That’s what she meant by that stuff she said. The memories weren’t flooding in like a montage from a movie, just sparking up and fizzling out again as soon as Adam could process them.

Male Voice seemed not to notice Adam quietly malfunctioning in front of him. He glanced down at his watch and cleared his throat. “I really have to get going. But I’ll be back later. Or see who else can come up.” 

He paused, seeming to be weighing something carefully in his mind, before stepping close to Adam’s bedside. 

“Look, I know it’s...unforgivably fucked up...that he’s not here right now but—I know when he’s scared and I’m sure you know, too—he’s an idiot. He can’t handle anything. He’s got no goddamn coping skills.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. 

Adam nodded sleepily, though he’d only caught about about thirty percent of what had just been spoken at him and of that only half came in rendered as processable English. 

“I’ll try to talk to him again after my meeting today. I know he’ll listen once I tell him you’re awake, at least. Maybe I can watch Ducky and he can come up, then.” 

Adam’s brain shuddered and images flashed through him so violently he felt like his brain was collapsing in on itself. Showing him things that couldn’t possibly be real. But were. Were they? 

“Oh, fuck,” was the last thing Adam heard, spoken in such an aggravatedly resigned fashion that it was almost soothing, before everything went too shaky to stand and Adam welcomed the oncoming oblivion. 

*******

Dinner had gone surprisingly well, considering there was: 

The fight he’d gotten into with Declan in front of everyone.

Adam patiently having to explain what a trailer park was to his son, and most likely, to his sheltered siblings as well.

The uncomfortable silence that had spread like too cold butter over soft bread after Adam had seemingly completely ignored Declan for ten straight minutes, which Ronan found hilarious though out of character, only to realize his mistake and inform everyone that he was deaf in the ear that Declan was closest to and he hadn’t heard him. Glares had been thrown Ronan’s way, as he should have warned his family about such things. The problem there was that he hadn’t known himself. 

It was an altogether illuminating evening. Like, for instance, Declan announcing to the table that Uncle Declan said mommy was doing much better and Ducky could see her soon, which unearthed the information that Declan apparently paid her regular visits, spoke to her about Ducky, and showed her pictures of him. Adam had put his hand on Ronan’s knee, gripping it tightly while Ronan barely managed to contain himself while he spoke. He didn’t last for very long and soon Adam’s hand was gone and reaching for Ducky, picking him up out of his high chair and carrying him far away from the room. 

“Hey,” he announced himself, sheepish and drained. He knew how Ducky felt about seeing his dad and his uncle argue and he knew he’d fucked up. He craned his neck to see what his son was currently fixated on, tapping away at Adam’s phone while he sat on his lap and Adam swung them both gently back and forth on the porch swing in the front of the house. “Whatcha playin?” 

“Hello Kitty Nail Salon,” Ducky answered, short and distant, like this was dense academic material that Ronan couldn’t possibly understand. 

“Sounds fun,” Ronan told him, itching to inch forward, reach for his little boy, but having the sense to hold himself back. “Can I come watch?” 

Adam didn’t look up from the screen, pointedly uninvolved in this decision. Ducky pursed his lips in a long moment of contemplation before he said, “Okay.” 

Ronan watched his son and Adam work together to create various nail art designs of questionable taste for awhile before he began to speak. “Daddy’s sorry about fighting with Uncle Declan. Everything’s okay now.” 

Ducky remained unmoved by this confession for so long Ronan was resigned to a long night of the silent treatment, but then Adam jostled him and said, “Hey Ducky. Maybe you should tell your daddy what you told me.” 

It shouldn’t be a surprise that the two of them hadn’t just materialized from thin air as soon as Ronan had come upon the scene, that they’d been playing together and talking for quite some time, but it scraped something up inside him, being the outsider waiting to receive information where his son was involved. 

In response, Ducky threw Adam’s phone to the hard wood of the porch underneath them. 

“Hey!” Ronan couldn’t stop himself from leaning in close to grab his son’s wrists. Sure he was a little kid, but this habit of breaking other people’s shit, usually Adam’s, was not acceptable. “I know you’re upset, but there’s no excuse for acting like that. Pick that up and tell Adam you’re sorry.” 

Ducky wrenched away from him, flailed around wildly in Adam’s lap until he could bury his face into Adam’s shoulder and sob. 

“I’m sorry,” Ronan said, instead, forced to apologize on his child’s behalf. He reached for the phone, assessing the damage. “I think it’s alright.” 

“That is what I bought a sixty dollar case for, I guess,” Adam shrugged, though Ronan could see he was rattled by all this. 

“I don’t like yelling!” Ducky screamed, unaware of this ironic hypocrisy, choked with tears, muffled into the fabric of Adam’s shirt. 

“That was what we talked about,” Adam cut his gaze to Ronan, finally, trying to maintain his hold on Ducky. Everything about his body language was crying for help. Get this thing off me. But he held on tight to him, all the same. “When you and Declan fight like that, it scares him.” 

“I know,” Ronan sighed, running his fingers across his forehead. “Ducky, will you come here, please? I wanna talk to you.” 

“I don’t wanna talk to you,” Ducky turned his face away from Adam’s shirt, to the opposite side so Ronan couldn’t see. “I’m mad at you.” 

“Yeah, I got that,” Ronan rolled his eyes. “But you can’t just break other people’s things when you’re mad. That’s not okay. At all. If you do something like that again, I’ll either take a toy away or you won’t be allowed any shows for awhile. You hear me?” 

Ducky harrumphed against Adam’s chest. 

“Now tell Adam you’re sorry.” 

He was still sniffling and mewling, but the outburst seemed to have drained most of the fight out of him. “I’m sorry,” he told Adam quietly. 

“I forgive you,” Adam managed to pull through his clenched teeth. He was sweating, muscles drawn tight, like he was barely holding himself together. He wasn’t angry, or well, he probably was, but he obviously had some sort of deep rooted psychological issue about showing it. So instead he just looked like he really had to piss. He patted at Ducky’s back awkwardly. “But please don’t do that again, okay?” 

Ducky started to lose it again and Ronan took the initiative to grab him off Adam’s lap and relocate him to his own. 

“Come here,” he pulled his son tight to his chest, kissing the top of his head. “I love you. Even when you’re being a brat.” He nudged at Ducky’s face with the strong tip of his nose. “You love me even when I’m being a brat?” 

Ducky sniffed. “Yeah.” 

It was all Ronan needed to put his heart back together again. 

By the time Matthew had appeared in the front yard, calling out to Ducky and waving a football in his hand, the melancholy and hysteria were promptly forgotten as Ducky leapt from where he’d been curled on his father’s lap and bounded down the front porch steps to join his uncle in a rousing game of catch.

Ronan rolled his shoulders back, stretching the tense muscles knotted up back there, and chanced a look at Adam. “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” Adam looked back, discerning, as always. “Are you?” 

Ronan shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

“It’s weird,” Adam told him casually, eyes lazily ping ponging between where Ducky and Matthew were chasing each other around the yard. “Until Declan brought it up, I completely forgot Ducky even had a mom out there somewhere.” 

It was shameful to admit how much Ronan could relate to the sentiment, so he kept it to himself. 

“Do you ever talk to her?” 

“I did a lot, at first,” Ronan said. “Then less frequently. I haven’t in...a long time.” 

Adam didn’t say anything and that told everything Ronan needed to know about his thoughts on the matter.

Ronan scoffed. “Really?” 

Adam turned to look at him fully, features askew in defense. “What?”

“Are you gonna give me the same lecture about how she’s his mother and she deserves to know him?” 

“Is that what Declan said?” 

“He’s fucking obsessed with her,” Ronan snarled in unanswer. “It’s creepy. He visits her twice a month.” 

“Is she still in a facility?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Maybe he just feels sorry for her.” Adam squinted into the dying light of the day’s end. “Maybe he thought he was, I don’t know, feeling her out. Seeing if she had made enough progress to be part of Ducky’s life again.” 

“That’s not his fucking decision to make!” Ronan couldn’t believe he was having to explain this twice over. “I’m—”

“I didn’t say it was,” Adam cut him off calmly. “I’m not saying I agree with what he did, Ronan. I’m just trying to see it from his perspective.” 

“His perspective doesn’t fucking matter,” Ronan argued. “He crossed the line more than anyone has ever crossed the line with me. I’m supposed to be his brother and he’s more concerned with the feelings of some random girl who left a baby outside a grocery store in the middle of winter than mine.” 

“I thought the general consensus was that she wasn’t in her right mind when she did that,” Adam replied. “That she thought she was doing something good.” 

“That’s not the point!” Ronan was done. “Never mind. Just forget it.” Normally he would have stormed off but he’d just smoothed things over with Ducky after exploding in front of him. So he crossed his arms and stayed where he was, stewing silently. 

“It’s really not okay,” Adam said eventually into the thick air around them. “Him doing all of that behind your back. Without your permission. As for his infatuation with the mother, I don’t know. Maybe he thought he was doing something good, too. Bringing you all together or something. I think he probably realizes his mistake now. I don’t think he meant to hurt you.” 

“You don’t even know him, or me, or anything about my family,” Ronan felt the sour aftertaste of his cruelty and swallowed it back down, uncaring. 

He saw Adam shifting in his peripheral vision and was surprised that instead of getting up to leave he was leaning in closer to Ronan until his lips touched the shell of his ear. 

“You’re doing that thing when you lash out at people because you’re upset,” Adam whispered to him conspiratorially. 

Ronan snorted, trying to appear unmoved by the unexpected closeness, the annoying accuracy of the observation. “Am I.” 

“Mmhmm.” Ronan knew Adam’s breath was hot against his ear but he was feeling it decidedly somewhere else. “And if you do it again, I’m going to have to take one of your toys away.” 

“Oh, fuck you,” Ronan rolled his eyes, shoving Adam away from him. He tried to control the smile that was twitching uncontrollably onto his face but it was a losing battle. For a wild moment his brain catapulted him into a series of dream-like visions so embarrassing that even the logical acknowledgment that Adam couldn’t read his mind did not quell his shame. “Stop flirting with me. We’re breaking up tomorrow, remember?” 

*******

Adam was awake again. He was pretty sure this time. His dreams, if they could even be called such, were weird and seemingly some kind of half reality half subconscious fiction swirl ice cream cone. It had been a couple days and his concussion symptoms were all but gone and he could remember things with around 90% accuracy. They were finally giving him the good stuff now. Not being in pain anymore was admittedly spectacular, but the side effects were almost not worth it. He was itchy, sleepy, irritable, depressed.

“Sorry,” he said to the unfamiliar woman who was perched over top of him, blinking slowly, like a curious woodland creature. “I’m having a hard time remembering stuff right now, so you’ll have to catch me up on how we know each other.” 

“You don’t know me,” the woman said plainly. “But I know you.” Her voice was much higher pitched than he’d been expecting and he his eyes focused harder and he saw her features with new clarity. Her face was very round, obscured by a long curly mane of dark brown hair. There was something very familiar now about the way her facial muscles shifted as she spoke, the round button nose dotting the center of her face like a solitary cherry on top of a cake. 

“I wanted to come earlier but Declan hadn’t sorted it out with the social worker yet,” she explained, like these words were supposed to make sense. “It’s weird. I used to hate you and now I’m spending my first day of freedom just to sit in an uncomfortable chair and watch you sleep.” 

Adam stared at her, his brain putting the pieces together slowly but surely, because he was a very smart person who’d recently suffered some fairly severe head trauma. 

He gaped at her. “How did you get out?” 

She laughed and Adam had a newfound fascination with the power of genetics. He’d seen that laugh so many times in the past few months he could have drawn it from memory. “It’s not like what you see in the movies. It’s basically like living in an old folks home.” 

“Maybe when you’re rich,” he scoffed. “Or in your case, rich-adjacent.” He’d blame that on the medicine later. 

“Maybe,” she agreed, apparently unaffected by his jackassery. “Anyway, Declan had to drive back up to DC for the day and painted a very melancholy picture of you clinging to your life all alone in a dreary dark hospital room, so that helped my case. Sick or dying family members are golden tickets back at the refuge—that’s what we’re supposed to call it—everyone was so jealous.” 

“We’re family?” Adam raised an eyebrow at her, another question floating to the forefront of his mind. “You hate me?” 

“If it gets me out of that place, you bet we are.” she smiled cheekily. “And not anymore.” She settled herself down on the edge of his bed, her denim-clad legs dangling over the side. “I was really upset when Declan first told me about you. It was good that he did, though. I had this ‘long standing delusion’ that I was using as a ‘coping mechanism’,” she used her fingers for quotation marks around these words, “that Ronan and I were soulmates and we were going to be together forever once I got out. Raise the baby together. One big happy family.” She sighed, resigned. “Some other girl I could deal with. I could be prettier than her, smarter than her, better for the baby than her. I hadn’t anticipated never being in the running at all.” 

Adam hadn’t anticipated a lot of things. He was ashamed to admit it now, but Elena was not at all what he’d been imagining in his head. He’d been picturing stereotypical white trash, not unlike himself, except the uneducated confederate flag waving kind. 

Though well read and skilled in polite conversation, she was not altogether normal. She only ever referred to Ducky as “the baby”, for one thing. Declan says the baby’s already learning learning the alphabet. Have Ronan and the baby been up here yet? Adam wondered if it was because she was stuck in some weird limbo where Ducky was still the barely formed two year old she’d left outside a grocery store. Or if it was because she had an aversion to calling him by his current name. He wondered, traitorously, what the name she’d given him had been. He’d never thought about that before.

“He said something to me,” Adam told her eventually, skirting around the issue by not using a name at all. “I think it was the night before…” he gestured at himself. “He was upset because Ronan and Declan were yelling at each other and I took him outside so he wouldn’t have to hear it. I didn’t say anything to anyone at the time because I didn’t know if it was true or just, I don’t know, little kid make-believe or something. I didn’t want to upset Ronan for no reason.” 

Elena’s dark eyebrows furrowed together, her muscles coiling back like she was preparing herself for some kind of attack. 

“He told me he didn’t like yelling because his old daddy used to yell at his mommy. He yelled at her and pushed her really hard into the wall. That’s what he said.” 

Elena’s fists had clawed into the blankets at his feet. “Declan always said he didn’t remember anything from before they found him.” 

Adam shrugged. Whether Declan had simply lied to spare her feelings or that was what he truly thought, Adam didn’t know. “I’m just telling you what he said. He told me that’s why he got a new daddy. His mommy took him to the store to buy a new daddy for him but it was cold out so she got sick and she has to get better before he can see her again.” He paused before adding. “I’m assuming some of those details were fairy tale’d together by the Lynch brothers.” 

“I know everyone thinks I’m this horrible person,” Elena said, looking out the window. “But I really did go crazy that day. I don’t really remember it...not clearly. He’d never really paid attention to the baby before. He had no interest, he just acted like he wasn’t even there, most of the time. But then that day the baby was crying so much and I couldn’t get him to settle for anything and he grabbed me and he—I was still holding the baby— he was screaming in my face and shaking me and I just thought, I have to get him out of here. I have to get him out of here.” 

She was crying now and Adam only just now remembered that you weren’t supposed to drop triggering bombs on mentally fragile trauma survivors. He’d blame that on the medicine too. 

“Hey,” He hoisted himself up. “No one thinks you’re a horrible person.” 

“They all do,” she insisted, sniffing through her tears. “Declan’s the only one who’s nice to me. Ronan hates me.” 

“He’s afraid of you,” Adam corrected. “He thinks you could take Ducky away from him.” 

“I can’t,” she spat out flatly. Adam didn’t know if she meant emotionally or legally. Or both. 

“I know it’s selfish and I don’t deserve it,” she sobbed behind her hands. “But I just don’t want the baby to grow up thinking all this bad stuff about me. I don’t know what they say to him. Declan always promises to tell him that I’m thinking about him, that I love him, but I don’t know. I don’t know what the rest of them say.” 

“I’ve never heard Ronan say a bad word about you,” Adam told her, running his thumb across the back of her hand. “Well,” he amended. “At least not in front of Ducky. He’s not that type of person.” Unexpected flares of offense rose up in his belly as he spoke. “You just don’t know him.” 

“Obviously not,” Elena scoffed, pulling her hand back to wipe under her eyes. “I couldn’t even tell he was gay.” 

Adam couldn’t help but snort out a horribly inappropriate laugh. He was definitely, definitely going to blame that on the medicine. But then Elena’s sniffly sobs choked up into bubbles of laughter as well and she was doing that extremely rare though somehow familiar trying-not-to-cry-snort-gulp-laugh thing and he moved in just the wrong way, trying to physically adjust himself through the awkwardness, and accidentally jammed an elbow deep into the call button for the nurse. It wasn’t Adele who showed up but one of the older, more crotchety ones who gave them a right good scolding and by the time she meandered back out of the room the two of them were convulsing, trying to calm themselves. 

“Why are we laughing?” Elena asked him, breathless between snickers. 

“Well I’m on drugs,” Adam told her. “I don’t think you have an excuse.” 

“Yeah I do,” she leaned in close to whisper to him conspiratorially. She pointed her index finger at the side of her head and wound it around in a lazy circle. “I’m crazy, remember?” 

Adam scoffed. “Yeah, sure.” 

“You’re kind of an asshole,” she told him. “When Declan showed me your picture, the one of you and the baby at the grocery store, I thought you’d be nicer.” 

He felt a strange thrum of embarrassment pulse through him, like she’d just described a photo in which he was nude and explicitly positioned. 

“I’m sorry,” he closed his eyes, laying his head back against his uncomfortably flat pillow. “That’s the drugs, too.” 

"Hmm,” she hummed noncommittally. “And here I was thinking you were perfect for Ronan, after all.” 

He cracked one tired eye open. “Is he really that awful to you? He shouldn’t be.”  
Elena shrugged, twirling a strand of her hair through her fingers. “He’s too hard on Declan. Declan just wants what’s best for the baby.” She paused, before she added with blushing pride, “And me.” 

That warranted the opening of his other eye. “Are the two of you...you and Declan, I mean…” 

Elena stared at him, wide eyed and blank faced, until his meaning registered and her whole body exploded with a horrible squawking laugh. “Oh my God! Ew! He’s, like, my big brother!” She looked and sounded so much like a little girl in that moment, Adam was struck with the realization of how young she’d been when she’d left Ducky that day, how young she was when she’d gotten pregnant and had a baby, how young she still was now. 

Adam felt like he knew a lot of things about Elena, suddenly. No one had ever cared about her until Declan came along. He didn’t need to ask, as someone who’d grown up the same way, who’d gotten his first I love you from a somewhat insincere baby at 23 years old, he could just tell. He didn’t know Declan’s true motivation, though he had theories about that as well, for devoting so much of his time to her, but he was glad that she had someone who was taking care of her. 

“So Declan knew about me and Ronan for awhile,” Adam realized, which he should have much sooner. “Way before he said anything to Ronan about it.” 

Elena shrugged again. “I’m not getting into all that drama.” 

“Why don’t you call Ducky by his name?” He blurted out, because his curiosity was itching like a spreading rash. “Does it bother you? That they renamed him?” 

“Oh,” Elena only seemed mildly surprised by the slightly non-sequitur and very rude question. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I named him after…” she seemed to be struggling for a particular word, “the man who got me pregnant.” 

Yeah, that seemed most accurate of all the options she could have gone with. 

“I thought it would make him want to stay,” Elena went on quietly. “And love the baby.” She paused, reddening in embarrassment. “And me.” 

Adam only nodded along, nothing she said so far had been hard to follow.

“Anyway, I’m glad he doesn’t have that name anymore. My counselor told me—this was when I was still super crazy and convinced I was going to marry Ronan, mind you—that I needed to find ways to distance myself from the baby. She always called him ‘the baby’ when we’d talk about stuff and it just stuck in my head. It was better than calling him someone else’s baby, which I wasn’t ready to accept, and better than calling him my baby, which wasn’t true anymore.” She sighed, punctuating her story with one final thought: “My counselor always tells me I’m not a bad person, I just wasn’t a good mother.” 

Adam’s mind folded up in contemplation. He thought of his own mother, who only held the title in the most literal, useless sense of the word. She’d never looked at her child, seeing the danger he was in, and thought I have to get him out of here, had she? 

He reached for Elena’s hand. “Your counselor sounds like kind of a bitch.” 

Elena snorted. “Well—” 

The door of the room clicked opened in that loud, clinical way only hospital doors are capable of, and in walked Ronan Lynch, carrying his four year old son in his arms, whose big brown eyes landed on the ones that matched his and cawed out, “Mommy?” 

The word fell into the room like a large piece of scrap metal to the floor of an empty airplane hangar. 

“Elena,” Ronan greeted her calmly, though Adam could tell this was entirely for the benefit of his child. He was staring at hers and Adam’s clasped hands. He didn’t know when the grip had gone from casually comforting to life-threatening but her nails were digging into his skin. “My brother always gets what he wants, doesn’t he?” 

Her expression flinched at the dig toward Delcan, but she cleared her throat and said, “I wanted to come see Adam and thank him in person. And Declan had a work thing today and didn’t want to leave Adam alone so,” she shrugged. “It just worked out.” She pushed off the bed. “I’m gonna go look for a phone. Maybe I can call the refuge and get a ride back or something.” 

Adam wanted to hold on to her, long enough to say something, but his mind came up resoundingly blank. 

“Ducky,” Ronan said, keeping his eyes on Elena. “Do you want to hang out with your mommy for a little bit? Daddy needs to talk to Adam.” 

“But I wanna see Adam!” Ducky whined, crinkling up his face in what Adam knew was the start of a tear filled tantrum.

“Daddy needs to talk to him first,” Ronan explained patiently. 

“Ducky,” Elena spoke the word so slowly, like she was trying to sound out a word she’d never seen before. “There’s a gift shop downstairs. They have snacks and drinks and toys.” 

“Toys?” Ducky was very interested now, his desire to see Adam completely forgotten. Adam smirked from where he lay. 

Elena nodded. “Come on,” She held out a hand as Ronan was lowering him to the floor. “I’ll show you.” 

“Well,” Adam said when the door had clicked shut. “That was awkward as fuck.” 

Ronan shoved his hands into the pockets of the gray hoodie he was wearing. 

“You aren’t afraid she’s going to run out the door with him, never to be seen again?” 

Ronan grabbed the back of the chair that Declan had been sitting in and dragged it closer to the bed before placing himself in it. He crossed his arms and looked past Adam, out the window of the hospital room. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Adam shrugged. “And you didn’t have to come here.” He couldn’t help but state the obvious. “And you probably shouldn’t have brought Ducky.” 

Ronan’s head turned, eyeing Adam with stark confusion. “I thought you wanted to talk to me. And see Ducky.” 

Adam blinked at him, mirroring his confusion. “Where did you get that idea?” 

“Declan told me—” Ronan stopped himself short, scoffing as his head rolled back to gaze up at the ceiling. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“Everyone still thinks we’re together,” Adam noted aloud, figuring he might as well use Ronan’s presence to piece together what he hadn’t already figured out on his own. “What happened?” 

Ronan dropped his head back down to stare at him, totally bewildered. “Do you seriously not remember?” 

“My head hit the pavement pretty hard,” Adam told him, annoyed. “After being run over by a truck, and all that.” 

“I also had a seizure,” Adam continued when Ronan said nothing. “That was pretty exciting.” 

“I don’t know what to say,” Ronan said again, wringing his hands together. He seemed to be shy when asked, “What do you remember?” 

“I feel like I remember everything,” Adam explained, “But then I get these weird flashes that don’t make sense and I can’t figure out if they’re real things that happened that I’m remembering or dreams or...what.” He closed his eyes. “I’m mad at you,” he told Ronan. “But I don’t remember why.” 

“If it’s about the Washington Post article, I had nothing to do with that.” 

Adam stared at him blankly. 

“Was a joke.” Ronan’s cheeks were ruddy with color. He kicked at the linoleum floor, resulting in a horrible squeaking noise. “I know why you’re mad at me.” 

The way Ronan said it shook something loose inside him and he had the distinct memory of what felt like a cold slap across the face, with the salted awareness that what Ronan had done was much worse than that. But what he said was: “What Washington Post article?” 

“Fucking...Oh my god.” Ronan pressed his head into his hands. “I am going to kill my brother.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is such a weird feeling!!!! Me, finishing a fic? Too OOC. But I just wanted to say that I will never be able to truly express how grateful I am for this experience. I started this fic when I was going through a rough time and just wanted to write something fun and reminiscent of the over the top soapy tropey fanfics I grew up reading. To every person who's messaged me or commented on this fic to tell me how much you've enjoyed the story or that it cheered you up or got you through something, I want you to know that I think about you all constantly, and that your words are what brings me out of some of my darkest moments. To everyone who's just been a silent reader/kudos giver, you are all my little angels and I love you so much. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story! <3

It was strange to think about, because it didn't make sense, and so Adam tried his best not to think about it very often. But as he gently cupped his hands above Ducky's eyes, instructing him to tilt his head back so he could rinse the shampoo out of his soapy wet curls, he didn't understand how it was possible. He wished for a memory in which he'd been taking care of himself since he'd been born, but that was impossible. There'd been a time before he'd been able to dress himself, feed himself, clean his own body. His parents had to do it for him. And he remembered it. He remembered his mother adjusting his grip on a spoon, his father filling up a tub full of water, dipping in his fingers to check the temperature.

How?

How could the woman who had the intricately intimate patience to change his diaper and spoon food into his mouth be the same woman who looked away in passive disinterest while the same man who'd once wrapped a towel around his wet, shivering body now threw him against a wall?

What had changed?

When?

He'd endured years worth of accusations about how Adam was illegitimate, in some way or another. A drunken joke about a milkman. A thorny comment about the way he spoke.  _Ain't no son of mine_ , his mother had mused more than once.

And so, he was a disappointment. He wasn't like them. They resented every difference, every piece of evidence that disconnected him from them. It made sense.

It didn't, though. After all the time he'd spent around Ducky, he'd traversed the extremes. So filled with affection he felt like his body wasn't built to contain it all. Angry enough to punch a hole through a wall. Frustrated, exhausted, elated with pride, hollowed out of energy. He was no saint. Nothing like Ronan, whose quiet, steady parenting astounded him on a daily basis. Adam tried to follow his example, but there were times he wanted to scream, slam his own head up against a wall just to knock himself out, effectively giving him a moment's peace. He became frustrated in ways Ducky's child brain couldn't understand, which only dumbfounded him further.

Had he ever thought it? Even once?

No. He could say with complete and satisfying honesty that he had not.

He had a hard time putting a label on the people who raised him. He still didn't understand how you could be one and still the other. He'd only ever touched Ducky with gentle hands and anything else was as possible as getting a calculator to divide by zero.

What did that mean?

"Daddy, I'm ready to get out now," a small voice bubbled beneath his thoughts.

"Daddy!" There was some indignant splashing around the word. "Daddy, I'm ready to get out!"

Adam blinked down at the frothy pink water sloshing up and over the side of the white porcelain tub. Ducky looked back up at him, smiling in a way that was completely naive to the possibilities of what Adam could to do him, if he wanted to. At four years old, Adam had already learned things that now seemed so obscene to exist in a child's mind he would have ripped himself apart to shield Ducky from that kind of fucked up knowledge.

"Cold cold cold cold!" Ducky shivered and wriggled performatively while Adam squeezed a towel around his head, absorbing what he could of the dripping wet strands, before wrapping it around his little body and scooping him up, only for Ducky to fall limp in his arms.

"I wanna play poor dead baby," Ducky informed him.

Adam sighed. "Poor Dead Baby" was what happened when the universe decided Ronan N. Lynch was allowed to be a parent. It was a game he'd invented to coax Ducky out of the bath and into his clothes, in which the towel became a burial shroud and Ronan would swing him sorrowfully back and forth as he walked, singing " _Poor dead baby_ " over and over like some kind of ancient funeral mantra. Ducky's role in the game was to remain completely still while Ronan "prepared his body for burial" and as soon as Ducky was dressed he would reanimate himself and shout "I'm not really dead!" And Ronan would do a disturbingly impressive job of acting shocked every time.

"Oh, I'm so glad!" He'd cheer, spinning Ducky around in circles. "I was just about to go dig a hole outside."

Luckily, the rest of Ronan's family was long accustomed this sort of thing and so Declan did not become alarmed when Adam delivered the lifeless body of his nephew to him, announcing solemnly, "I've got a dead baby here for you."

"Oh no," Declan gasped, a horrible actor, but his enthusiasm was appreciated nonetheless. "Poor dead baby. I guess I'll have to get him ready for the burial."

"I'll start digging the hole," Adam offered, handing Ducky over to him.

Ducky squirmed in Declan's arms, uncharacteristically halting the charade. "I want daddy to do it."

"Daddy went to the store with Uncle Matthew, remember?" Declan combed his fingers through Ducky's soppy curls.

"Nnnn," Ducky whined, jackhammering in Declan's arms. "Daddy, you do it!"

Ducky was twisted around, looking expectantly at Adam. Declan mirrored his posture and expression in such a way that Adam understood the mistaken resemblance between them people often noted.

Ducky was always whining for Ronan, separation anxiety still going strong, it hadn't occurred to him earlier, that Ducky had been addressing  _him_  in the bath. And Adam had said nothing to correct him.

Because that wasn't his job. And neither was it Declan's, who simply cleared his throat and handed Ducky over to Adam, silently and without reaction. Adam, whose only current concern was inciting a temper tantrum before bedtime, performed the rest of the task at hand and tried to be as convincing as Ronan when Ducky popped up and revealed himself to be alive. It wasn't as good, though, because he wasn't Ronan. He wasn't Ducky's father. He wasn't a father at all. His genetic code wouldn't allow it. Ducky was too little to see it, to understand how wrong he was every time he looked at Adam and saw what people like Ronan were capable of. It broke his heart in more ways than one, but there was nothing he could do about it. The damage had already been done.

 

*******

 

"What the hell took you so long?"

Ronan cocked a curious eyebrow at the tense figure Adam cut, cross-armed at the edge of the bed in the room they were sharing. He shrugged out of his jacket with a scoff. "Is there lipstick on my collar?"

Adam didn't laugh, or even crack a hint of a smile, which troubled Ronan, as this had been an incredibly clever joke on his part. Without his permission, his heart sped up in his chest. Something was wrong.

"You said you were going to talk to him, Ronan." The frustrated flush in Adam's cheeks told him everything he needed to know, and he sighed with a crooked shrug.

"I did."

"Well clearly whatever you said didn't get through," Adam balked. "He called me daddy three separate times while you were gone. It's not an accident. He knows what he's saying."

A hot spike of fury surged in Ronan's blood. "Don't fucking put this on him, alright? You wanna be mad at someone, be mad at me."

Adam looked at him like he was speaking another language. "Of course I'm mad at you! I told you that the first time it happened. And you said you would talk to him about it. Did you?"

"I said I did, didn't I?"

"What did you say to him?"

Ronan felt as if his insides were being stretched to the limit like a worn out rubber band. "None of your business."

Adam rolled his eyes. "I'll take that as a no, then." He shook his head with such a paternal disdain, the irony of it was too much to handle.

"I tried!" Ronan snapped. "I tried and he wasn't fucking buying it. He—" Ronan thrust the palm of his hand between his eyes. "He's fucking crazy about you. He told me he wanted you to be his daddy, so you were. Just like when he wanted me to be his daddy and then I was. I tried to tell him it was different but he just didn't understand. He started getting upset. And not like a normal kind of upset. It was like—I've never seen him look like that. It made me feel fucking sick. So I just dropped it."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ronan." The words sliced out of Adam's mouth like they were cutting his lips at the edges. "It's your responsibility to make sure he understands what I am to him and what I'm not. I'm not his dad, you are."

"Well maybe you should stop acting like it, then."

Fuck.

Adam's expression stilled."What?"

Fuck.

Ronan sighed again, stormed over to where his overnight bag sat atop the dresser and pretended to be searching for something inside of it.

"What the hell does that mean?" Adam pressed. Ronan heard the mattress squeak as Adam's weight left it and appeared behind him, crowding his space and standing up the hairs on the back of his neck.

"Nothing," Ronan forced out through clenched teeth. He was clutching a pair of socks between his fists.

"Just say it." Adam's breath prickled his skin.

Ronan spun around, flustered and frenzied and ready for this to be over with. "You haven't exactly been a stickler about boundaries, have you?"

Adam nodded, like he'd been expecting this. "Right. Of course. This is all my fault."

"I'm just saying—"

"All I've done is what you've asked me, Ronan." Ronan was really starting to hate the way Adam said his name. "I've tried my best with Ducky, I've played nice with your friends, I've entertained your family. Every part of this has been your idea, your messes that I've been trying to help clean up. What more do you fucking want from me?"

"Look," he hissed, the air in his lungs seemed to sour as he breathed it out through his teeth. "I know this doesn't mean anything to you and all you care about is getting paid, but for the rest of us who don't regularly sell ourselves out for cash, the situation's a little more complicated."

He was waiting for the counter attack, the responsive blow. He wanted it. Needed it. He was angry and hurt and stupid and he needed Adam to be all those things too.

He kept his head defiantly down, not looking up until the door had been shut more quietly than necessary. He squeezed his hands into useless fists, startled to find he was still clutching the socks between them.

 

*******

 

Adam stopped short in surprise, but Declan, sitting on the far side of the porch swing with a half empty glass in his hand, lifted it toward Adam as if he'd been expecting him.

"Sit," he said genially.

Adam's cheeks were stinging like they were smarting from a slap. "I just want to go."

"I know," Declan nodded toward the empty space and said again, "Sit."

Adam sniffed, awkward and unwanted and out of place. He couldn't bring himself to enjoy the irony of Declan's statement. "You really don't."

Declan was already in the middle of a drink and didn't seem to be in any sort of hurry to finish until well after Adam had stopped talking. "Let's see. You tried to have a conversation he didn't want to have, he tried to avoid it, you pressed until he snapped, and then he said something so unforgivably cruel you can't even imagine ever being in the same city as him again, let alone the same room."

Adam sat down. His bag was getting heavy.

Declan nodded again, slow and old beyond his apparent age. "Figured as much. That's why I decided to keep watch."

Adam scoffed, rubbing at his shoulder. "You gonna kick my ass or something?"

"Ronan's my brother, my younger brother," Declan said, bending over to retrieve a bottle and refill his

glass. "Which means I've known him his entire life. He hasn't changed much."

Adam was struck by the thought that until this moment, he'd never had the opportunity to complain about Ronan to someone. "He's so selfish," Adam found himself spitting out, clutching his chin as he spoke. "He doesn't think about anyone else's feelings."

"I'd thought he was finally growing out of that," Declan sighed. "After Ducky. But I suppose the newfound maturity doesn't go beyond caring for his child."

Adam felt all at once traitorous, like he should be defending Ronan, though he was the one who'd criticized him in the first place. He dropped his head into his hands, exhausted.

"I shouldn't have come here."

"Do you love him?"

Adam's heart collapsed in on itself. "What?"

Declan shrugged, a neutrally judgmental look on his face, like a mafia boss about to offer Adam something he couldn't refuse. "Do you love my brother?"

Adam gaped at him for a long, offstanding moment, then shook his head and scoffed. "I don't know how to even begin to answer that."

Declan smiled at him in a way that was so warm it was uncomfortable. He pointed his watering drink at him before taking a satisfied sip. "Well, there you go."

"It's an honest answer," Declan went on, eager to inform Adam about himself, "But more than that, it's the only true one. If you'd said yes or no, then you'd have been lying."

"You're drunk," Adam mumbled, miserable.

"Unfortunately not," Declan sighed, eyeing the drink in his hand with a mournful look of longing. "I don't let myself get drunk when Ducky's around. It's in the Lynch blood. Ronan was even worse than our father."

Mention of Declan and Ronan's shared father was a weird thing. Ronan didn't talk about his family that much, but Adam knew enough to put together that Ronan had been close with the man before he died. Adam had thought about the inevitability of his own father dying and been unable to come up with an emotion that made sense.

"I was terrified when Ducky came along. I thought Ronan was being a reckless idiot, getting obsessed with this kid, using him as an excuse to get sober. I knew it was going to be a fucking disaster."

This was news to Adam, Ronan's alleged alcohol problems, and that coinciding with Ducky in any way. Little kids shouldn't have to deal with drunk adults. The thought of Ducky needing to be fed, or played with, or taken care of, and Ronan being too drunk to properly parent, made him sick with anxiety, disgust, heartbreak.

"He proved me wrong, though." Declan shrugged. "First time for everything."

"He was meant to be Ducky's dad," Adam said, smiling down at his knees, fond in spite of all that had happened.

"It's impossible to love my brother," Declan changed the subject abruptly. "That is, the way you love other people. Loving Ronan is complicated. Sometimes I don't even know if it's in the same universe at all. I'd die for my brother, kill for him. His safety is more important to me than my own. But he makes me angry, makes me sad, I can't stand to be in his company for more than a few minutes, more often than not. It's not as easy to keep my brother alive when I'm the one who wants to kill him."

"I don't have siblings," Adam offered. "But from what I've heard, I think that's par for the course."

Declan laughed, an attractively musical sound, irresistible in its genuineness. Adam wondered how many cool, indifferent girls who would never go for a guy like Declan that laugh worked on. He estimated in the low hundreds.

"It doesn't matter," Adam confessed to Declan, trusting him for reasons he couldn't explain. "How I feel about Ronan. He wants me to be something I'm not. Actually, he wants me to be many things that I'm not."

He shook his head. This was ridiculous. Ronan was not, never had been, actually his boyfriend. This had gone on for so long, to such an extreme degree, even his own mind was getting fucked up in the process.

"I'm not a father. I'm just not."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because," all the tension, anger, adrenaline, hurt that had been building up in Adam all night came to a boil in his chest. "My father is the reason why I can only hear out of one ear."

Declan didn't seem bothered or even surprised by this.

"When I was seven years old," He told Adam, "My dad took me out into our garage. He showed me how to make a proper fist, how to punch someone else without hurting myself. He hit me in the stomach and I went down. I laid there, confused, scared, embarrassed. Was this punishment for something? What had I done? Why was he angry with me? He told me I wouldn't be allowed dinner until I could take a punch and get back up from it like a man. I got up and he hit me again. I fell. "Again," he said. I got up and he hit me, I staggered, but this time I had the sense to plant my feet, and didn't fall. My fists were up in front of my face, ready to protect myself, ready to hit back. He smiled and told me he was proud of me. Even after all this time, after all of it, I look back and think: that was the happiest day of my life."

"Was he like that with all of you?" Adam asked. It was enough to deal with his own father on his own. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to have siblings to worry about.

"Not with Matthew, not really," said Declan. "Mom almost miscarried, they'd told her she was too old, so he was an extra special miracle baby, and mom hardly let him out of her sight. I think dad knew he was too sensitive, that he'd tell mom. Or I'd raise hell. Ronan loved him so much, I think he worried even his little clone might turn on him if he fucked around with Matthew."

Adam didn't think Ronan was anything like his father. He was so patient with Ducky, always gentle, always knew what to say. He never even yelled at him.

"Something tells me your dad wouldn't have been enthusiastic about the number of frilly skirts Ducky owns."

Declan sighed, stretched his body out where he sat. "I think that was the moment I really stopped being afraid. He sent me a picture, from the first time he'd taken Ducky out shopping once the adoption was finalized. No pretext, no explanation. I think it was a warning." Declan chuckled at the memory. "It's in all of us, in different ways, but Ronan...it's not in him like that. Thank God."

"There's a lot of it in me," Adam told him after a long moment of silence. "It's in my blood. I can feel it. Every time I get angry. And I get really, really angry. I've lost control before. Not while anyone else was around. But how long until someone gets caught in the crossfire? And what if that someone is—" He broke off, his throat tightening, too afraid to even say it. He covered his mouth with his hand, like he was going to be sick, and shook his head. "Ducky deserves better than me."

"So picture him with better," Declan told him. "You leave, Ronan meets someone new. He's smarter than you, older than you, got more money than you. His parents live in Maine and they're still together, they've been going to pride parades with him every year since he was fifteen, the whole works. They spoil the shit out of Ducky, they can't get enough of Ronan. Does that make you feel better?"

"I have a hard time imagining an old couple that live in Maine finding Ronan's company to be  _not enough_ ," Adam scoffed, but his insides felt like a crooked picture frame that was precariously hanging onto a wall by one corner.

The truth was evident. The thought of someone else taking his place was devastating. It knocked the wind out of him.

"Look," Declan said. "Just don't leave in the middle of the night. Don't be that guy. Ducky will be the one the most affected by it, no matter what Ronan might tell him to explain it away."

"You can sleep in my room," he continued when Adam said nothing. "I'll take Ducky downstairs to sleep on the couch. I'll let him watch TV if he wakes up. He'll love it."

Adam stood up, slung his bag back over his shoulder. Declan was right. And he'd already caused enough of a scene. He didn't want Ronan to have to explain to the rest of his family why his boyfriend has disappeared over night. And then he became incredibly annoyed with himself for worrying about Ronan when he was supposed to be angry with him.

Was that love?

Was it when he and Declan climbed the stairs and pushed open the bedroom door only to reveal the surprise of Ronan rocking Ducky back and forth in his arms, murmuring sweetly to a visibly distraught little boy?

Was it the way Ducky went pliably in to his Declan's arms, even though Ducky had woken up from a bad dream to find his uncle gone and himself all alone in a dark room? Or the way Declan patted his back and assured him that it was okay he'd had an accident in the bed, that he was sorry he wasn't there, and promised him he wouldn't leave again?

"How about we snuggle up on the couch downstairs, hmm?" Declan offered with a placating kiss. "We can turn the TV on and watch something to fall asleep."

Ducky sniffled and nodded, appeased, but then regarded Adam and the bag on his shoulder warily. "Where are you going?"

He knew it was love when he told Ducky he wasn't going anywhere, that'd he'd left his bag outside and he'd just gone to get it. He knew it was love that sent him back into the bedroom he'd just stormed out of, though he didn't understand it. He couldn't shake the image of Ronan holding Ducky like that, content and confident, quiet and gentle. It made his blood boil, like he couldn't contain himself inside his own skin, like a chemical reaction was sizzling in his chest and burning through his body from the inside out.

Love was a lot like anger, he was surprised to find out.

Well, not exactly. When Adam was angry there was always an element of choice involved, whether or not he was going to act on it. But when Ronan reappeared, shutting the door behind him sheepishly, like a child reluctantly ready to accept their punishment for misbehaving, the newborn beast in his chest threatened to rip right through his skin.

And when he shoved Ronan roughly up against the closed door, there was no blow that followed, but a defiantly controlled kiss, brutal only in its tenderness.

"Wait," Ronan gasped as Adam pulled him backward by the hem of his shirt. "I want to talk to you."

Adam gripped the back of Ronan's neck, digging his fingers in like he was lifting an animal by its scruff.

"I'm sick of listening to you talk," Adam breathed hot into Ronan's ear, nipping at it for good measure. "Just shut up and let me fuck you."

Ronan scoffed loudly, but raised his arms up with obedient quickness so Adam could peel his shirt off of him.

"Did you plan this?" Ronan's chest heaved from underneath Adam's straddled legs, breathless from the long journey that had resulted in this position, as he groped for the necessary supplies from the front pocket of his duffel bag.

Adam rolled his eyes. "It's my job to be prepared."

He secured Ronan's chin with one hand, spitting out the bit of wrapper stuck in his teeth, and pressed the outside of the rolled up condom between Ronan's lips, before angling his body in a way that allowed for a truly unorthodox application.

Adam had had a lot of sex with a lot of different people, but it had been quite awhile since it'd been purely for pleasure and not business, and he was surprised how out of his element he felt. His thrusts were messy and his rhythm was desperate. His job was all about giving, but right now he was all take. Even the bruising kisses he couldn't stop sucking from Ronan's mouth were for his own benefit, not that Ronan seemed to mind, chasing the unsteady rock of Adam's hips with his own, and as they didn't have the luxury of loudness, restricting his sounds to shuddered, needy whines shoved flush against Adam's ear. He only had one good one, so Ronan must've wanted him to hear it.

When Adam hit hard at what must have been a sensitive spot, Ronan's teeth snapped at his neck like a wolf caught in a trap. Adam groaned with intoxicating satisfaction, a rush of instinct overtaking him, and he pulled back enough to twist Ronan's hips around. Ronan rolled himself over with eager ease, suppressing a growl into the pillow he bit down on.

Adam took a moment to slide his slitted eyes over Ronan's sprawling back tattoo. He'd seen it in bits and pieces before, but never laid out completely in front of him like this. There was something intimately thrilling about it and the sensation buzzed threateningly inside him. He laid his chest down over top of it, possessively, and held himself up with one hand gripping the headboard of the bed, one hand wrapped tight around Ronan's throat.

His grip slackened as he neared the edge of his control, his hips trembling under the pressure, and Ronan's muffled whines became needily encouraging until Adam couldn't stand it and had to twist him around again so he could he claim full possession of his lips and grip the unattended to part of Ronan that needed the most attention. Ronan groaned and bit into his lips, hands digging into Adam's hair, and the stinging pleasure was enough to finish him off. He squeezed hard and worked his wrist relentlessly until Ronan's face contorted in bittersweet release and Adam had to shove two fingers in his mouth to keep the sound from ringing out.

"Yeah," Adam breathed, watching Ronan suck on his fingers like it pacified him, hot streams of sticky liquid spilling over his hand and dripping onto both their stomachs. "That's it. Fuck yeah. Good boy."

He slid his fingers out of Ronan's mouth before he moved any other inch of himself, pressing down to kiss lazily, gluing their sticky stomachs together in a way that was disgustingly pleasant. Ronan hooked his legs around Adam's back and groaned in displeasure when Adam began to slide the rest of himself out of Ronan. He hummed amusedly against Ronan's lips.

"Lemme go."

Ronan shook his head, pulled him back down, slid his tongue into his mouth with such unabashed neediness Adam could practically feel himself getting hard again.

"At least let me get this off," he whined impatiently, pulling out quickly this time so he could free himself from the used up condom, tying the stretched out end into a tight knot and tossing it off the side of the bed. He sighed in relief and pressed himself back down and they continued to kiss, strangely undaunted by the thunderous pull of after-sex exhaustion.

"I'm gonna get in trouble," Adam pouted, much later, his deaf ear pressed to the top of Ronan's chest, feeling the thump of his heart vibrate silently against his skin. One thing had led to another and an arguably large mistake had been made. "M'not supposed to have unprotected sex."

Ronan, who had been graciously silent up until this point, smirked with infuriating self-satisfaction. "Just show 'em a picture of me and they'll see how irresistible I am."

Adam shook his head with a dry scoff, rolling over so he was facing Ronan in bed. He felt like he had to kiss him again so he did. It was like swallowing sea water. Every drink seemed to only dehydrate him further.

When his muscles were well and truly spent, he had to stop and relax back into Ronan's chest, closing his eyes, intending to rest for a moment, before promptly succumbing to the losing battle he'd been waging against sleep since orgasm number one.

"Ronan," he whispered like he was falling, like he'd never get another chance and it had to be now, "I love you."

His mission complete, the lingering tension in his body released like a broken curse, and he let go of his fingertip's hold on consciousness with no more reluctance.

 

*******

**Georgetown Student Inspires New Scholarship After Risking Life to Save Child**

_A follow-up to_ _this story_ _, Adam Parrish, 23, was on a weekend visit in Singer's Falls, Virginia with his boyfriend's family when the couple's young son wandered out into the middle of the road. Daniel "Ducky" Lynch, 4, was almost hit by an oncoming semi truck before he was pushed out of the way by Parrish, who took the brunt of the impact. A nurse from the hospital where Parrish is currently being treated claimed it "was a miracle" Adam survived and that she "couldn't even imagine" what the scene would have looked like had the child been hit instead._

" _It was a surreal experience," Declan Lynch, the child's uncle, recounted. "It felt like it was all over in less than a second. We were all in shock. But if it hadn't been for Adam, my nephew would be dead."_

_Parrish has been paying for his education at Georgetown University out of pocket and now that he is indefinitely indisposed and to be out of work during his recovery process, According to Lynch, Parrish was concerned about his student status being affected, and the college was flooded with tweets, emails, and letters written on Parrish's behalf. The university just released their official statement in support of Parrish's heroic efforts and have created "The Adam Parrish Scholarship" for LGBT+ students in need…_

That was as far as Adam could get before he became too dizzy to go on. "I need my phone."

Ronan shifted uncomfortably. "Declan told me he'd talked to you about this."

"I need my phone," Adam repeated, blindly reaching around the hospital bed for it like it was simply lost in the sheets. His phone was ruined. Declan had told him that. Even if he could find it, it was of no use to him anymore. "Fuck," he cursed, covering his eyes with his hands. He breathed in and out slowly, with each exhale he came to terms with the fact that he didn't need to have confirmation for what he already knew. The agency had google alerts on every employee's real and fake names, in case anyone made a public ass of themselves, and were terminated immediately. Never mind the fact that he'd been MIA for days and a missed call with no response after 24 hours was also an immediate term.

"I meant what I said," Ronan took his time filling the miserable silence. "Before. Before the accident."

Adam uncovered his eyes, but kept them fixed on the blank wall in front of him.

"Not the bad stuff," Ronan added. "The other thing. I still want to. I know you don't care, but, I just thought you should know."

It was a good thing that was the moment Ducky and Elena chose to make their return, because Ronan was waiting for an answer, and Adam didn't have anything to say to that.

"Adam! I got you a present!" Ducky's voice exploded through the thick air around them, and Adam forced a smile onto his face, just for him.

"You didn't have to do that."

"With what money?" Ronan wanted to know.

"Declan gave me some," Elena explained quietly. "In case I got hungry or something."

Ronan snorted. "Of course."

Ducky grabbed onto the side of Adam's hospital bed and shimmied himself up before anyone could stop him.

"Careful!" Ronan warned frantically, reaching forward to lift Ducky's weight off Adam's chest before he could further damage his ribs. Adam shifted to one side so Ducky had room to snuggle in beside him.

He presented Adam with his gift with a silent grin, like he knew it was something Adam had always wanted.

Adam smirked down at the little stuffed bird now perched on top of his chest. He patted its head, then patted Ducky's. "Thank you."

"Tell him what it is, baby," Elena urged with a proud smile that quickly fell from her face when Ronan turned to her sharply, threateningly startled by her word choice.

"Um it's a magic bird that makes you better and keeps you safe." Adam's eyes grazed over the words on the tag of the toy, since Ducky's explanation left a bit to be desired. Apparently it was a "Protector Pal" that's purpose was to make kids in hospitals feel less scared.

"They had other animals," Ducky told him. "But I liked her the best."

"Her?" Adam ruffled Ducky's hair.

He nodded, curling into Adam like he was ready to take a nap. "Her name's Chainsaw."

"Good to know," said Adam, leaning in to press his lips to Ducky's little forehead. He closed his eyes, breathing in his familiarly Ducky scent, fruity shampoo and powdery soap. He was struck with a wave of anxiety, the memory of what had happened —what had almost happened— flashing behind his eyes like it was happening all over again, and his heart rate spiked like a knife plunged deep in his chest, he didn't even realize he was gasping for breath until Ronan was pulling Ducky out of the bed, telling him they needed to let Adam rest, assuring him Chainsaw would keep an eye on him in Ducky's absence.

Elena hovered awkwardly between sitting and standing, and didn't look Adam in the eyes when she asked, "Do you want me to leave?"

He shook his head, though he was tired and probably wouldn't be able to keep his eyes open much longer, much less his attention on someone, but something about her presence seemed necessary, and it wasn't like she had anywhere else to go.

 

*******

 

Ronan never knew pretending to be asleep could be this difficult. He could keep up the act for hours on end in his younger days, when his mother would yell up from the living room that he needed to come down and fold all the laundry. But every time he tapped his phone, certain another hour had passed, all that had gone by were a few torturous minutes. Pushed to his limit, he pulled his arm out from underneath where it was pinned under Adam's sleeping body and recklessly rolled to the opposite side, making a lot of noise and unnecessary movement in the process.

He felt Adam stretch in the bed beside him and groan sleepily. He worried he'd still been or fallen back to sleep until he felt Adam's chest press into his back and one of his legs push posessively between his and he realized the pretending to be asleep thing wasn't so bad after all.

"I know you're awake," Adam mumbled into the back of his neck.

"You don't know shit," Ronan replied, rolling over so they were face to face before immediately plowing his face into the crook of Adam's neck and taking root there. He felt Adam's fingers poking at him like he was a squishy toy.

"You're cute in the morning."

"I'm cute all the time."

"Nah," Adam said. "Just in the morning."

Ronan retaliated by dipping underneath the sheets and staying there until Adam was clutching the back of his head and gasping. He kissed his way back up Adam's stomach and chest, making a very necessary pit stop around his nipples before making Adam taste himself on his mouth.

"Are you always this slutty right when you wake up?" Adam teased, and Ronan hated that he was so horrifically pedestrian that being called slutty after performing very generous oral sex on a hot boy made him throb between his legs.

Ronan nodded, moving to kiss Adam's neck. "And I do it for free, too."

Adam shoved him off with a high pitched laugh. "Fuck you."

"Again?"

Adam rolled his eyes, but Ronan could tell he was very amused with his antics. His fingers played teasingly inside the dense patch of hair that spread below his hips, eventually twisting his body so he could reach Ronan's lip's with his, the now much too warm blanket falling down around their waists as Adam's hand slid lower to grasp hold of Ronan's naked erection. Ronan had to bite down on his lower lip to reduce the sound he would have made to a low hiss instead. It wasn't like he'd never had a handjob before, but Adam's hands felt so fucking good. And they were Adam's hands, and he loved them, and he loved the person attached to them, and fuck, this really was different when you loved the person you were doing it with.

"Adam," he breathed roughly, his eyes slitting closed in ecstasy. "Fuck."

"Yeah?" Adam seemed to enjoy Ronan's reactions which made it even harder to rein them in.

He couldn't stand the way the rough texture of Adam's hands lit like a match against his skin. "You're gonna make me come."

"Better not," Adam warned, dipping down to kiss along Ronan's collarbone. "I haven't even gotten to suck on it yet."

Ronan's attention was undivided on Adam's mouth as it made a slow descent down his chest and stomach, so neither of them were in the position to see the door swing open.

"Hey guys, we're—"

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Ronan pulled the blanket back over them as quickly as his reflexes allowed. "Do you knock?"

"I—I'm sorry, I didn't—" Declan cut off, a puzzled look swimming in his eyes, like he wasn't sure what he hadn't done himself. "We're going out for breakfast."

Ronan widened his eyes and rapidly shook his head back and forth at him, the universal sibling gesture to say  _what the fuck is your point_?

"I assumed you'd want to join us." Declan blinked at him like he was the one being unreasonable. "I'll let mom know you—" he finally had the good sense to fix his gaze at the wall. "Need some time to get ready."

Ronan fell back against the bed with a groan, pulling the blanket up around both their heads.

"Do we kill ourselves now or later?" Adam whispered into his ear.

"I don't think I'll ever get hard again," Ronan confessed, any evidence of his arousal zapped from every pore of his body like it had never been there to begin with.

"What  _are_ we going to do, by the way?" Adam spoke as they began the arduous process of finding and putting on clothes.

"About what?" Ronan asked, rolling on a thick pair of socks.

"Today," Adam said. "Your family. The whole thing. Are we just going to ride out the rest of the weekend or what?"

Ronan didn't turn toward him from where he sat half dressed on the edge of the bed, because he was suddenly filled with such an explicit feeling of dread, he couldn't move.

"What do you mean 'ride out the rest of the weekend'?"

"Well, obviously the plan hasn't...gone to plan." Adam scoffed, amused, like this was a casual and inconsequential thing. "What are we gonna do now?"

"I don't know," Ronan answered quietly. "What do you want to do?"

"I was thinking we could talk to Ducky together," Adam sat on the bed beside Ronan, an incongruous gesture given where Ronan could feel this conversation going. "He might be more understanding that way."

"Do you remember last night?" Ronan asked him suddenly, unable to stop the words from blurting out.

Adam blinked, surprised. "What? Yes?"

"All of it?" Ronan clarified. Adam nodded.

"What about just now?"

Adam sighed. "Alright. I take it we weren't on the same page, then."

Ronan felt like he was sitting next to a stranger. He couldn't tell if Adam was a sociopath or just stupid.

"You told me you loved me," Ronan reminded him.

"I know," Adam said like a kid who'd been told to take out the trash while he was in the middle of a video game.

"Just seemed like a good idea at the time?" Ronan asked flatly.

"I meant it," Adam replied, looking down at the bare skin of Ronan's knees poking through the rips in his jeans. "But it's not like...that changes the situation."

"How?" Ronan was dumbfounded.

"I love Ducky too but that doesn't make me a father," Adam replied, like that explained everything. "It's not that simple."

Ronan couldn't believe this, but at the same time, he felt no surprise. "I guess it's my fault for assuming sex means anything to you."

Adam shook his head, stood up from the bed. "Why do you always have to do this? Why can't you just have a normal discussion with someone without lashing out like a little kid throwing a tantrum?"

"Fine. Let's have a normal discussion, then." Ronan accepted the challenge with a shrug. "I think we should be together, for real. Why don't you?"

"How could that possibly work?" Adam asked, incredulous. "You'd just be fine with the fact that your partner sleeps with other people constantly?"

"No," Ronan admitted, cheeks flushing. "But—"

"Or are you actually planning on me quitting my job just to be with you?" Adam shook his head, like he could read Ronan's thoughts. "I can't do that, Ronan. It's the only job that I can work around my school schedule and the money isn't something I can live without right now. I'm sorry, this sucks, but it's just not the right time."

"You don't have to work," Ronan told him, confused as to why Adam hadn't already countered the most obvious argument. "You can just go to school and focus on that. I'd take care of you."

"The fact that you would even suggest that to me!" Adam spat. "Like I would ever be comfortable in a situation like that."

"Like what?" Ronan stood up. "You too good to have your boyfriend pay your bills? But fucking strangers, now that's a respectable way to make money. Makes perfect sense."

"You're such—God, never mind. Forget it." Adam's tone was terrifyingly resigned and Ronan wished he could turn back time. "You only want me on your terms, what's good for you, and whenever I don't go along with it, you try to hurt me to make yourself feel better. I'm done."

"You don't even want to try!" Ronan shot back. "How is that supposed to make me feel?"

"What about what I feel?" Adam scoffed. "You don't even think about that. You don't care. And I'm done trying to come to terms with that. So yes, Ronan, I would rather fuck strangers for money than let some entitled, manipulative prick pay for my life as long as I'm keeping him happy."

"Adam," Ronan sucked in a deep breath, trying to regain control of himself, of what he'd done. "I didn't mean—"

"I don't care what you meant," Adam sighed. "I told you, I'm done. I'm over this. I'm leaving. Tell your family whatever you want. Tell Ducky whatever you want. I can handle the responsibility of knowing I've fucked him over in all this. I hope, for his sake, so can you."

Ronan had to let him leave, because he had nothing to make him stay. And there was no point in chasing after someone who didn't want the life you were able to offer them. Adam didn't want this, didn't want Ducky, didn't want him. There was nothing he could do to change that.

"What's the matter with you?" Declan chided with a knowing smirk when Ronan appeared outside. Adam was putting his bag in the trunk of his car and Declan was fastening Ducky's booster seat into the back of his own.

"Mind your own fucking business for once," Ronan snarled at him, rubbed raw with coarse emotion.

"Jesus," Declan rolled his eyes. "Blue Balls really brings out your bright side, huh?"

"What's Blue Balls?" Ducky piped up curiously, bouncing a semi-flat basketball against the concrete beside them.

"Nothing," Ronan glanced back at him. "Ducky can you go play closer to Daddy's car, please?"

He toddled away with his misshapen ball without argument.

"Don't bother," Ronan gestured to the seat. "We're not coming."

Declan stopped what he was doing to turn and glare at him. "What?"

"We're going home," Ronan told him.

Declan shook his head. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to fucking be around you," Ronan snapped. "And I don't want Ducky around you if you say shit like that in front of him."

"Oh fuck you, Ronan," Declan scoffed. "I didn't even know he was there. How many F-bombs do you drop on a daily basis?"

"Whatever," Ronan wasn't in the mood to argue with Declan of all fucking people. "You—"

"Ducky, no!"

Ronan felt like he was a watching a movie where the audio wasn't synced up with the video. His eyes took in the scene like stuttering clips: Declan running, Ducky screaming, tires screeching, the screen door swinging open, " _Matthew, call 911!"_ , " _Holy shit! Mom! Help!"_ , " _Daddy!"_

The word finally activated Ronan's body and he ran, the air sucking out of lungs, impenetrable to new oxygen until he reached Ducky on the side of the road, curled up in a ball, shrieking like a banshee. No blood. Barely any scrapes. He was okay. He was okay. He was okay. Ronan picked him up and started walking in the opposite direction, like taking Ducky as far away as he could get from the street would make it easier for them both to breathe.

Declan appeared in the house, sweating, white button down shirt covered in dark red splotches. "The ambulance is here," he said to Ronan. "Here, let me take Ducky. You go."

What was he talking about? He couldn't leave Ducky, who was still wracked with sobs, confused and terrified, and only now did his mournful cries process individually, word by word, through Ronan's brain.

"Adam pushed me," Ducky sobbed breathily again into Ronan's neck. "He pushed me and I hurt my knee and it hurts."

"You were about to get hit, Ducky," Declan explained gently. "He wasn't trying to hurt you, he pushed you out of the way."

Ronan closed his eyes, his heart stopping inside him in a way that made him wonder if it had ever been beating to begin with.

 

*******

 

Words fluttered through the air, disjointed and nonsensical, produced by a voice that was only familiar the way walking into a room and knowing you came in for a reason but not remembering what that reason could have possibly been was.

"Caught six…"

"Deep breath…"

"Poor quail…"

The words itched inside Adam's ear until he could no longer comfortably keep his eyes shut, and turned to see Elena sitting in the corner, her legs curled up and crossed, a book in her hands. She continued to read aloud, unmoved by Adam's waking state.

"...Was merciless, killing with a single blow. But then again not always. For Tita she had made an exception; she had been killing her a little at a time since she was a child, and she still hadn't quite finished her off."

She cut off abruptly, seeming to notice something different about the air in the room around her, and startled when she saw that Adam was awake, and gawking at her.

"Sorry." He watched her skinny fingers fold over the edge of a page and press her book closed. "I get mixed up when I read sometimes and reading the words out loud to myself helps me."

Adam would never be able to voice the embarrassment he felt at having thought her spoken narration had been for him, so he just shrugged.

"I'll be quiet," she assured him. "Go back to sleep."

"I'm awake."

She sighed and shoved her book into a rumpled black backpack on the floor. "How are you feeling?"

Fucking exhausted. He shamelessly ignored the question, rubbing the smooth material of the stuffed toy's tag between his thumb and forefingers. It claimed its name was "Raven" but Adam figured Ducky's opinion overruled that.

"Ducky's been popping in every 20 minutes," she snorted softly, fond. "Waiting for you to wake up. I think Ronan finally took him home. But I'm sure they'll be back soon."

Adam looked at her, said nothing.

"Are you and Ronan okay?" she asked, point blank, staring directly at him like the information was rightfully owed to her.

Adam was so tired of not saying anything, so he told Elena everything. The truth about how he and Ronan had met. The pretending to be in a relationship. The fight. All of it.

"So you're just gonna leave?" Adam was blindsided by the tone of her voice. He had expected Elena to be sympathetic, understanding. She was like him. She knew what it was like to struggle, to suffer, to not be understood by people who did not.

"He wants to own me," Adam said, voice gritty with repulsion. "I can't just be fucking beholden to someone like that. I'd never be happy."

One half of Elena's lips quirked upward and she shook her head. "Yeah. It sure is easy to turn down miracles when it's just yourself you have to worry about, isn't it?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It was fine before the baby was born," Elena said. "I could take it. The yelling, the hitting, the bullshit. It was fine because it was just me. And then I had a baby and it wasn't just me anymore. And if someone had offered me a magical way out, you think I would've turned up my nose?"

"This is different," Adam replied, chafed by her judgment. "I don't need anyone to save me."

"Why not?" Elena asked, unfazed. "What's so bad about being saved?"

A lot, unfortunately. Though Adam felt himself in lack of an actual answer to the question.

"Anyway," Elena flipped some of her hair behind her shoulder. "You're right. It is different. You don't need to be saved. You just need help. But you don't need that either, because it's only you."

"Well, it is just me," Adam agreed bristly. "If I had a kid or something to worry about, then sure, I guess I might feel differently. But I don't."

"You don't?" Elena asked.

Adam didn't have an answer for that, either.

The loud click of the door echoed into the room and Elena sighed. "That'll be Ducky."

But the footsteps were much too loud, too heavy, to belong to someone that small, and so Adam had been preparing himself for Declan, or even worse, Ronan.

He was in no way prepared for the reality of the new presence inside the suddenly very tiny room, which was now being occupied by himself, Elena, and his father.

"Shit," Robert Parrish took in the sorry sight of his estranged son. "Lenny wasn't kidding. You look like death warmed over, boy."

Every muscle in Adam's body constricted. "What are you doing here?"

"Lenny said he read about you in the paper, said you was in some kinda accident, got a bunch of money for saving some kid. Since when do you got a kid?"

Adam processed all he needed to in record time, despite his survival reflexes gone rusty from years without being necessary. "How much do you want?"

"Boy, you ain't changed a bit," Robert sneered in perverse amusement. "Rude as ever. No respect for no one, not even for your own father."

Suddenly a mass of black frizzy curls were standing in between Adam and his view of his father.

"Hi," Elena's voice was cheery. "You need to leave now."

He couldn't see his father's expression, but he could imagine it in just as vivid detail. "Who the hell are you?"

"No one you need to know," Elena said. "But I don't like the way you're taking to the father of my kid and I'm ready for you to go."

"Is that right?" Robert veered around her to look at his son. "Guess you ain't a fag after all. I told Lenny he must've read it wrong."

Adam watched Elena's hand push out in front of her, palm flat against his father's chest. She shoved him backward. "I said, you're leaving."

Adam had never seen his father hit a woman, but it wasn't something he could confidently put past him, and his heart dropped into his stomach. "Elena—"

The door clicked open again and Ducky appeared, looking confusedly between Adam and his mother and the stranger in the room. Robert looked down at Ducky, cold and disapproving, and the rush of adrenaline that spilled through Adam's entire body was enough to turn over a car with his bare hands. He sat straight up in bed, bandages and IVs be damned.

Ronan appeared in the next moment, and Robert looked around warily, his confidence staggered now that he was outnumbered.

"Bye," Elena said, walking forward as Robert stepped backward, guiding him toward the open door.

"Who was that?" Ducky asked, already halfway up the bed, crawling to Adam with athletic ease.

"That was my dad," Adam said, because he just felt like he had to. Ronan's head whipped toward the door like there was still something there to look at.

"He looked mean," Ducky observed.

"He is," Adam agreed.

"Is he bad?" Ducky asked with childish simplicity.

Adam nodded. "Really bad."

Ducky now looked as troubled as Ronan. "Is he gonna come back?"

"I don't think so." Adam picked up the stuffed bird and pressed its beak to Ducky's nose. "It was Chainsaw." His eyes glanced up at Elena, who was still glaring daggers at the door, pulling her thick hair up into a messy bun. "She scared him away."

 

*******

 

The chair squeaked abhorrently against the floor as Ronan dragged it toward the bed to sit beside where Adam lay. "Can I talk to you?"

Elena had taken Ducky down to the cafeteria to stretch their legs and look for snacks, so they had the room to themselves.

"It's not like I can run away," Adam sighed.

"I didn't know what to do," he said, quiet and serious. "It all happened so fast. I thought Ducky—" He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. "But he wasn't. And then I just couldn't let go of him. I couldn't believe you…" He shook his head. "I don't even know what I'm saying."

"It's okay," Adam told him, genuinely.

"He'd be dead," Ronan said, staring at Adam with naked emotion. "Jesus, that thing would've crushed him. He'd be in pieces."

"Stop," Adam's insides shuddered at the images Ronan's words were conjuring up in his brain. "It didn't happen. He's okay."

"Because of you," Ronan noted. "You did that. I was too busy fucking around with Declan to notice, I didn't..." He exhaled a long shaky breath. "I just don't even know what to say. But I'm sorry it took me so long to come, to bring Ducky. I just didn't know what the fuck to do. I didn't think you'd want to see me, anyway."

Adam shrugged. "I've gotten used to the way you look by now."

Ronan snorted without amusement. "I didn't mean all that fucked up shit, you know." He looked down at his hands. "I thought if I gave you a reason to leave, it would hurt less."

"And how's that working out for you?"

Ronan went very still, and Adam thought he'd pushed him too hard, and he was about to throw another grown man tantrum.

"Before you woke up," he said, disarmingly quiet. "Declan just kept telling me how bad it was, that I needed to be at the hospital, and bring Ducky, that I'd regret it if I didn't let him say goodbye." His voice left him at the end of the last word, and he sucked in a sharp breath. "But I didn't know how to do that." He shrugged, helpless. "I just kept thinking that if you died, you'd die hating me. And that I could deal with. But I never would have gotten the chance to say it. And I couldn't deal with that. It hurt so fucking bad, Adam, it was like I couldn't breathe." He looked up at Adam, finally, fingers cupped precariously over his mouth, face puffed up and reddened from crying. "I never got to tell you I love you and you'd be fucking gone." He shook his head, eyes squeezed shut, like even the thought of a hypothetical past was too much for one person to bear.

"I'm not gone," Adam said softly.

Ronan sniffed again, this time reaching up to wipe his face with his hoodie sleeve. "No."

Adam slid his hand over the railing on the side of the hospital bed, until his fingers were dangling over the side. Ronan stared at them for a strangely long moment, like he'd never seen fingers before and he wasn't sure what to make of them.

Adam's eyes stung hot. Ronan's emotions were always so goddamn contagious. "Hold my hand, you asshole."

Ronan's lips twitched with the ghost of smirk. He threaded his fingers through Adam's. "I love you."

"You mentioned that," Adam whispered.

Ronan's thumb stroked the back of his hand. "You still mad at me?"

"Yeah," Adam rasped, feeling the farthest away from angry he'd ever felt, which was infuriating.

"What are you going to do?" Ronan asked him. "About—school and all that."

Adam sighed, turning his head to look up at the ceiling. "Take the scholarship money, I guess. I don't have the agency job anymore. So."

"What?" Ronan sounded surprised.

Adam swung his head back to the side to fix him with a flat look. "I've been in the hospital for days. Haven't had a phone or any way to contact them and tell them I was out of commission. Even if I had, they probably would have still fired me anyway. Not like I'm irreplaceable."

"You are to me," Ronan said, unable to keep a straight face afterward.

"Too far," Adam warned, but his face felt hot. "Guess this all worked out pretty well for you, huh?"

Ronan's smile fell. "What do you mean?"

"You got everything you wanted. I don't have the job anymore. And now I'm stuck in this mess with no other options. You think my shitty health insurance is gonna cover all this? It's all you, babe."

Ronan had the audacity to roll his eyes. "If you think this is how I wanted things, you're even dumber than you look, and that's saying something."

Adam had to bite his bottom lip to keep from smiling."Fine. I was being a dick. But you can't tell me you're not jumping up and down at the thought of getting to take care of me."

Ronan raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying you want me to take care of you?"

"No," Adam said. "I'm prepared to let you. But I'm not going to like it."

"I'll try to be discreet," was Ronan's face-punchingly smug promise.

"It's not about me, anyway." Adam straightened his shoulders, proud. "I have a kid to think about, you know."

"When have you had the time to do that?" Ronan sneered with a horrible grin. "Adele? Noah's gonna kill you."

Adam glared, but his mind was stuck on the moment he'd known. He'd always known what it meant to have Parrish blood running through his veins, that he was a ticking time bomb. But he hadn't known precisely what he was capable of until the moment Ducky and his father had been in the same room.

Elena was right. Everything changed when it wasn't just you. And if accepting help was good enough for someone who had the guts to physically push Robert Parrish out of a room, Adam figured he had some reflecting to do on the matter, regardless.

Luckily a second too late to hear Ronan's crude joke at her expense, Adele bustled into the room waving a stack of papers in her hand like it was a freedom flag. "I've got good news!" She sang. "You ready to go home?"

Adam took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and nodded.

He was ready to go home.

 

**EPILOGUE**

 

Adam never thought he'd live to see the day that being back in Henrietta didn't seize his lungs up like they were filled with water. They made trips to the Barns more and more frequently, and Adam knew Ronan was buttering him up to the idea of an extended stay there, to say the least. Singer's Falls wasn't technically Henrietta, anyway. But the closest stores and all other markers of civilization were in Henrietta and so the two places were connected by necessity, regardless. Coming here would be unavoidable.

Like today, for instance, when Ducky's overabundance of energy would not be quelled by anything but a large park with enough equipment to tire him out.

He was undecided on the matter. Sometimes he felt like a summer at the Barns would be perfect, sometimes it felt like a death sentence. Ronan still hadn't even begun to broach the subject yet at all, but Adam knew what he was thinking. He loved that place. He would live out there permanently if he could. Ducky would be starting school this fall and he knew Ronan wouldn't want to uproot him once that had begun. Adam was still in school himself, of course, so his mobility wasn't something that could currently be negotiated. If Ronan wanted Ducky to grow up in the same home he had, Adam wasn't going to tell him no. But the idea of the long distance was painful to the point where he had to stop himself from thinking about it for too long lest his emotional state prematurely spiral.

Ducky appeared at his knees, crouched before the bench he sat on and jerked his head forward like a chicken. He made some terrifyingly non-human sound that Adam couldn't identify. It echoed from behind he and Ronan's heads, and he turned to see a small girl with a platinum blonde pixie cut pecking at Ronan's ear.

"Kerah!" She squawked brazenly, as Adam watched in silent awe. "Kerrrrrah!" Ronan accepted the assault for a few more seconds before reaching behind to capture her in a startlingly rough headlock, but she just cackled in delight, until she wasn't able to wriggle herself free, and sank her teeth into Ronan's bare forearm.

"Hey!" Ronan released her with a chastising growl. "What'd I tell you about biting?"

She stuck her tongue out in response and trotted briskly away, Ducky followingly dutifully after her.

"Who was that?" Adam wanted to know.

Ronan rubbed the bright pink imprint of teeth on his arm. "Who was what? Orphan Girl?"

"Ronan," Adam smacked the swelling welt Ronan was examining and he yelped.

"What?" He shrugged defensively. "She comes here with a big group of kids on that foster home bus. I don't know her name."

Adam cupped his hands over his eyes, shading his vision to get a better look at the faraway figures of Ducky and the girl. Halfway down her legs skin stopped and something else started. When they ran back closer he saw that they were fastened on metallic-looking rods that went all the way down into her shoes.

"What happened to her?"

"Huh?" Ronan was still inspecting his arm like it was a radioactive spider bite.

"Her legs," Adam said quietly, tilting his head in her direction.

Ronan shrugged. "I think she was born that way. Probably why no one will adopt her."

"Jesus, Ronan." Adam shook his head in disgust.

"I know it's fucked," Ronan agreed. "I'm just saying, it's true."

Adam knew that it was and his heart panged. Being a father had really turned him into a hyper empathetic sap.

The next time she and Ducky approached, the girl had a handful of what appeared to be wild mushrooms.

"Can we eat these?" she asked him.

"Uh, probably not," Adam winced. He reached into his backpack for the wet wipes he now always kept on hand. "Here," Adam gestured for her to drop the mushrooms so he could wipe her hands clean, but she pulled them back close to her chest.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, no," Adam admitted. "But it's best not to eat stuff you find on the ground, okay?"

Her expression wavered. "But I'm hungry."

Adam laid the wet wipe across his lap and reached back into the bag to produce one of the wrapped sandwiches he'd packed for the day.

She eyed it longingly, then peered back at her mushrooms. "What do I have to give you for it?"

At first Adam didn't understand the question, and then understood it in a way that was so unfathomable he had to look at Ronan for confirmation, the darkened look that clouded over his expression said it all.

"Nothing, sweetheart," Adam told her softly. "You can just have it."

She bent down to gently place the mushrooms in a pile on the ground, then tentatively reached forward to retrieve the sandwich. Adam almost made her wipe her hands first, but thankfully thought better of it.

"Thank you," she said after a few bites.

"You're welcome," Adam told her. "What's your name?"

"Opal."

"That's a pretty name."

"Thank you!" She exclaimed brightly, her cheeks burning bright pink, before she sped off in the opposite direction, and Ducky took off after her again.

Ronan shook his head with a short laugh. "Weird kid."

Adam kept his gaze forward for a long time, watching Ducky run in circles around Opal while she finished her sandwich, before sliding his eyes to look at Ronan.

It took him awhile to notice he was being stared at and he shot Adam a puzzled look. "What?"

Adam held Ronan's eyes with his, until his boyfriend balked. "No."

"Why not?"

Ronan stared at him, sussing out the look on Adam's face, whatever it was, and sighed. "You can barely handle one kid."

"Fuck you," Adam scoffed. "I'm getting better. Plus, it's different."

"How is it different?"

"She's bigger."

Ronan barked out a disbelieving laugh. Adam still hadn't moved.

"There's no way they're gonna hand her over to a single guy in college," Ronan said. "I went through this shit with Ducky, and if it hadn't been for Gansey's connections and Declan's...whatever he does—"

"So they can do it again," Adam said. "And since when am I single? Did I miss an email from you or something?"

Ronan rolled his eyes. "Single as in not married, dumbass."

"We could get married."

Ronan didn't have a quick comeback for that. He crossed his arms and stared silently straight ahead before asking, "And where exactly are you planning on keeping her? Are you hiding an extra bedroom in your apartment? Cause I don't think the powers that be are gonna be okay with her sleeping on the couch."

"She can't share a room with Ducky at your place?"

"They don't like that," Ronan told him. "They want them to have their own rooms. I'm telling you, your shit has to be picture fucking perfect. Especially since we're two men. Plus, if we're gonna be married, then we'll have to live together. You think the four of us are gonna survive at my house in DC?"

"We could move into the Barns."

Ronan was so utterly unprepared for that Adam was surprised he didn't pass out. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Adam had already done the math. "Well, we can get married, in like, a day. Shotgun it at a courthouse. And I'll move into your place temporarily, and we can tell them as soon as we have Opal we have a bigger house that we'll be moving into. Summer's not that far away."

"And what about when Summer's over?" Ronan asked. "Then what?"

"Well," Adam said, "I'll have to go back to school."

"And I'll be living alone with two kids."

Adam sighed. His mania was waning and this was crazy. Impossible. He should have never said anything. He just couldn't bear the thought of leaving Opal behind and he didn't understand why.

"I mean," Ronan ran a hand through the grown out fuzz on his head. "I mean, I can get a bigger house in DC, obviously. It's just—I don't know—Ducky's gonna be starting school and I don't—I just...I just maybe wanted him to…"

"You know you're not going to find a school in Henrietta that's going to let a little boy wear dresses, right?"

Ronan stiffened at the realization. "Never mind," He shook his head. "I don't wanna fucking get into this with you right now."

"I know that house is special to you," Adam slid close to Ronan, covering his hands with his and squeezing their fingers together. "And I know you want Ducky to grow up there."

"And I know that's not what you want," Ronan said, knocking his forehead ruefully against Adam's. "Not for yourself."

"I know I love you," Adam murmured, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss. "And I want you to be happy."

"I want you to be happy," Ronan mumbled back. "You wouldn't be happy living there, would you?"

"I don't know," Adam told him, honestly. "But it's not like we have to make a forever decision about it right now. Get a bigger house in DC. Ducky can start school there. We'll find some progressive prep school that makes kids read  _I Have Two Mommies_  and doesn't believe in math."

"Sounds lit," Ronan mused.

"And then, maybe, you know, we could start spending our Summers at the Barns. Stock up on food on the way there and just chill out for a few weeks. Live off the grid. Let the kids run around the farm."

"The  _kids_!" Ronan huffed, though his eyes had gone soft and dreamy. Adam hooked an arm around his boyfriend's shoulder, knowing very well he'd struck his target dead in the center. Still, he nuzzled his nose into Ronan's ear, sealing his coup d'etat with a pleading kiss.

Ronan sighed heavily. "Fine." He shrugged Adam off and stood up to shout across the playground. "Opal! Ducky! Come on! It's time to go!"

The kids trotted over, pouting and argumentative.

"You said we wouldn't go until I was tired!" Ducky snarled accusingly at Ronan. "And I'm not tired yet."

"Yeah, well," Ronan shrugged at Ducky. "We're doing this before I change my mind."

"Please not yet," Opal begged with big eyes. "The last time you guys left I didn't see you again in forever!"

"Consider this your lucky day, then," Ronan told her, flicking his sunglasses from where they were tucked into the front of his shirt onto his eyes. "Cause you're coming home with us."

"Really?" Opal looked confusedly between Ronan and Adam. "For how long?"

"Until you get sick of us," said Ronan, bending down to pick up Ducky while Adam slung the backpack over his shoulder. "Now let's do this while your wardens are distracted."

Opal was buzzing with excitement. "Are we going to get in trouble?"

"Probably," Ronan answered, motioning for Adam to pick Opal up, and he did. "But luckily for you, this ain't my first rodeo."

Adam's heart felt like it was going tear through his chest as they walked toward the far edge of the field the park was in the middle of, where the BMW waited for them like a shiny silver lighthouse in the distance. He felt like any second someone was going to start screaming and chasing after them. A couple walking their dog in the opposite direction shot them an odd look and Adam felt like he was going to faint.

"Just act natural," Ronan hissed. Adam pasted on a toothy smile and Opal waved happily at them before slinging her arms back around Adam's neck and dropping her head onto his shoulder, like she was a carefree little girl who wasn't being kidnapped.

"You see?" Ronan shot him a proud smirk as they tore out of the parking lot. "Easy."

Adam still felt like his heart was lodged in his throat. "Should we call Gansey now or later?"

"Later," Ronan replied. "He might call the cops if he thinks there's still a chance it can be undone, but once we've got her home it'll be too late."

"What if they take me away?" Opal asked quietly from the back seat. Adam turned to look at her. Her little blonde head was wrenched toward the window, her face pressed up against the glass, like she couldn't take enough of everything in.

"They might try," Adam said, because he knew that had happened when Ronan had been fighting to keep Ducky. "But we won't let them."

"But what if they do?" Opal was no more convinced about their ability to pull this off than he was.

"Well," Adam said, searching his brain for an answer that would bring Opal some comfort, when his eyes landed on Chainsaw slumped over in the space between Opal and Ducky. He reached back to sit her up and pointed her toward Opal.

"This is Chainsaw," He told her. "She's magic."

He didn't think about the fact that Opal was probably way too old to believe in fairy tales and magic birds, but she looked down at Chainsaw like she was having a holy experience.

"She can't have Chainsaw!" Ducky cut in unhelpfully, but Adam simply patted his knee.

"No, buddy, Chainsaw's gonna stay with us. But—" The car jostled the lot of them as Ronan sped over a particularly large pothole. He quickly unbuckled the watch from his wrist and fastened it around Opal's.

"Opal's gonna take my watch. And if she ever gets taken away or lost, Chainsaw will know where she is."

Opal raised her wrist, turning it to admire the watch like it was one of Wonder Woman's armored cuffs. "Cause the watch is magic too?"

"Exactly," Adam nodded. "And Chainsaw will tell us where you are, and we'll find you."

Both Ducky and Opal seemed pleased with this outcome and the remainder of the drive was silent until they pulled into the parking lot of Elena's apartment.

"Is this home?" Opal asked, looking around with tentative curiosity.

"This is Ducky's mom's home," Adam explained to her, smiling at Elena as she picked up Ducky into a tight bear hug. Opal lit up like a fresh candle.

"I get a mom too?"

"Uh, no," Adam winced. "Not exactly. But I'm sure Elena would love to have you come visit sometimes."

She'd called while they'd been driving and when neither Ronan nor Adam answered she got worried and threatened to call Declan if they didn't respond so Adam had to text her and when they filled her in on what had happened and she demanded they bring their fugitive selves and their stolen children to her apartment because they needed to start the process of not being arrested now and couldn't possibly leave it until they were all the way back to DC. She wanted to call Declan herself because he couldn't say no to her and that way they'd be able to bypass his potentially explosive reaction to Ronan kidnapping another kid and focus all his energy on fixing it instead. They couldn't argue with that.

"I think I'd like to stay here," Opal told them suddenly. Ronan and Elena exchanged wary looks.

"You don't wanna come home with us?" Adam asked her, pouting like he was disappointed.

Opal pursed her lips in contemplation. "I like it here."

"You might like our place, too," Adam suggested.

"Maybe," Opal relented. "But I want this to be my home."

"Well maybe this can just be one of your homes," He tucked a short sprig of white blonde hair behind her ear. "And ours can be another one."

Opal tilted her head at him. "I can have more than one home?"

Adam laughed, pulled her into a soft hug. "Yes," He glanced up at Ronan, Elena, and Ducky before closing his eyes and squeezing Opal tight against him. The small beat of her heart against his made him think about the Barns, the creaky wooden stairs, the fireflies buzzing around lazily at night, and the blinding glow of the refrigerator in the dark of his small DC apartment, the smell of vanilla and tobacco from Ronan's cologne that stained the air inside his house, Ducky's toys all over the floor, and the loud buzz of Elena's rickety washing machine finishing a cycle of clothing. "You can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q: why wouldnt they just adopt opal like normal people oh my goddddd
> 
> A: the fact that you would even SUGGEST realism to me. BLOCKED.


End file.
